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NGRAVED EXPRESSLY FOR ABBOTT'S LIVES OF THF. PRESIDF.NTS 



















































LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS 


r 



3C/-,’ 


OF THE 


UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, 

FROM WASHINGTON TO THE PRESENT TIME. 


CONTAINING 


‘ A NARRATIVE OF THE MOST INTERESTING EVENTS IN THE 

L 

CAREER OF EACH PRESIDENT; THUS CONSTITUTING 
A GRAPHIC HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES. 


f ® Y 

\ JOHN S. C, ABBOTT, 

< II 

; ACTHOB OP THE “MOTHEE AT HOME,” “LIFE OF NaPOLEON,” “ IIiSTORT OF THE CiVIL WAB IH 

America,” “French Kevoldtion,” etc. 


ILLUSTRATED WITH PORTRAITS OF ALL 
THE PRESIDENTS ENGRAVED ON STEEL, PICTURES 
OF THEIR PRIVATE RESIDENCES, AND FIFTEEN OTHER WOOD 
ENGRAVINGS OF THE MOST INTERESTING SCENES IN THEIR LIVES. 


SOLD ONLY BY DISTRIBUTING AGENTS. 



BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED BY B. B. BUSSELL. 

CINCINNATI: WHITE, CORBIN, BOUV^:, & CO. 

SAN FRANCISCO: H. H. BANCROFT & CO. 

1869 . 



\i Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1869, by 

B. B. RUSSELL, 

In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



Rand, Avkkv, & Fkye, Printers, 3 Cornhill, Boston, 



PREFACE. 


There are few persons who can read this record of the 
Lives of the Presidents of the United States without the 
conviction, that there is no other nation which can present 
a consecutive series of seventeen rulers of equal excellence 
of character and administrative ability. Probably the least 
worthy of all our presidents would rank among the best 
of the kings whom the accident of birth has placed upon 
hereditary thrones; and not an individual has popular suf- 
rage elevated to the presidential chair, whom one would 
think of ranking with those many royal monsters who have 
in turn disgraced all the courts of Europe. This record 
settles the question, that popular suffrage, in the choice of 
rulers, is a far safer reliance than hereditary descent. 

With us, the freedom of the press is so unlimited, and 
political partisanship so intense, that few persons have been 
able to take really an impartial view of the characters of 
those who have been by one party so inordinately lauded, 
and by the other so intemperately assailed. But, as we 
now dispassionately review the past, most readers will 
probably find many old prejudices dispelled. 

In writing these sketches, the author has endeavored to 
be thoroughly impartial, and to place himself in the posi¬ 
tion which the subject of the sketch occupied, so as to look 
from his stand-point upon the great questions which he 
was called to consider. John Adams and Thomas Jefferson 
were in political antagonism; but no man can read a true 
record of their lives, and not be convinced that both were 
inspired with the noblest zeal to promote the best inter¬ 
ests of their country and of the human race. 

The writer has not thought that impartiality requires that 
he should refrain from a frank expression of his own views. 



4 


PREFACE. 


It is an essential part of biography, that faults as well as 
virtues should be honestly detailed. No man is perfect. 
There have certainly been errors and wrong-doings in the 
past administration of this Government. It is not the 
duty of the impartial historical biographer to ignore such, 
or to gloss them over. They should be distinctly brought 
to light as instruction for the future. 

The materials from which the writer has drawn these 
biographical sketches are very abundant. Whatever of 
merit they possess must consist mainly in the skill which 
may be exhibited in selecting from the great mass those 
incidents which will give one the most vivid conception 
of the individual. The writer has attempted, with much 
labor, to present a miniature likeness of each character 
which shall be faithful and striking. If he has failed, he 
can only say that he has honestly done his best. He has 
not deemed it expedient to encumber these pages with foot¬ 
notes, as most of the important facts here stated, it is be¬ 
lieved, are unquestioned; and all will be found substan¬ 
tiated in the memoirs and works, more or less voluminous, 
of our Chief Magistrates, contained in most of our large 
libraries. 

We have just passed through one of the most terrible 
storms which ever desolated a nation. Its surging billows 
have not yet subsided. Every reader will appreciate the, 
delicacy of the task of writing now, in the midst of all 
the excitements which agitate our country, an account of 
the characters, which necessarily involves the administra 
tions, of Presidents Buchanan, Lincoln, and Johnson; and yet 
the writer feels such a consciousness that he has endeavored 
to be just to all, and at the same time to be faithful to the 
principles of a true deniocracy, that he cannot doubt that 
the final verdict will sustain his record. Neither can he 
doubt that every candid reader must admit that there is no 
government upon this globe better adapted to promote the 
great interests of humanity than our own. With these 
few words, the author submits to the public these results 
of many months of incessant yet delightful labor. 


Faik Haven, Conn., Mav, 1869. 


JOHN S. C. ABBOTT. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I. 

GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

TACtk 

Ancestry of Washington. — His Birth and Childhood. — Anecdotes. — The Youthful 
Engineer. — The Fairfax Family. — Life in the Wilderness. — War with the In¬ 
dians.— Domestic Griefs. — The French War. — Washington’s Heroism at Brad- 
dock’s Defeat. — Scenes of Woe. — Mamage. — Inheritance of Mount Vernon.— 
Domestic Habits. — American Revolution. — Patriotism of Washington. — Ap¬ 
pointed Commander-in-chief. — Expulsion of the British from Boston. — Battles of 
the Revolution. — Perplexities and Sufferings. — Spirit of Self-sacrifice. — Alliance 
with France. — Capture of Cornwallis. — Attacks upon the Character of Washing¬ 
ton. — The Tomahawk and Scalping-knife. — Close of the War. — Washington 
chosen President. — His Retirement. — Peaceful Life at Mount Vernon. — Sickness 
and Death. 


CHAPTER II. 

JOHN ADAMS. 

Ancestry of John Adams. — Anecdote of his Boyhood. — State of the Country. — Mar¬ 
riage.— British Assumptions. — Riot in Boston. — Adams’s Defence of the Soldiers. 

— Anecdote. — Patriotism of Adams. — The Continental Congress. — His Influence 
in Congress. — Energy of Mrs. Adams. — The Appointment of Washington. — The 
Declaration of Independence. — Letter from Mrs. Adams. — Interview with Lord 
Howe. — Journey to Baltimore. — Delegate to France. — The Voyage. — Adams 
and Franklin. — The Contrast. — Franklin and Voltaire. — Second Trip to Paris. — 
Successful Mission to Holland. — Conflict with the French Court. — Mission to Eng¬ 
land. — Presidential Career. — Last Days, and Death. '.57 

f 

CHAPTER III. 

THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

Birth and Childhood. — College-life. — A Law-student. — Earnest Scholarship. — Mar¬ 
riage. — Estate at Monticello. — Interest in Public Affairs. — Action in the Conti¬ 
nental Congress. — Governor of Virginia. — Death of his Wife. — His Grief. — Let¬ 
ters to his Children. — Minister to France. — His Popularity. — Political Views.— 
Scientific Accuracy. — Interest in the French Revolution. — Returns to America. — 

The two Parties, Federal and Democratic. — Secretary of State.— Monarchical 
Sentiments. — Letters. — Correspondence with John Adams. — Alexander Hamil¬ 
ton. — Weary of Office. — Vice-President. — President. — Inaugural. — Stormy 
Administration, — Life in Retirement. — Scenes at Monticello. — Death . . .97 

5 




6 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER IV. 

JAMES MADISON. 

PA OB. 

Childhood. — College-life. — Studious Habits. — Enters Public Life. — Mental Charac¬ 
teristics. — Aid in framing the Constitution. — In Congress. — Marriage. — Mrs. 
Madison. — Alien and Sedition Laws. — Secretary of State. — The White House. 

— Life in Washington. — Friendship with Jefferson. — Abrogation of Titles. — An¬ 
ecdote. — Chosen President. — Right of Search. — War with England. — Re-elected. 

— Treaty of Ghent. — Arrival of the News. — Retirement to Montpelier. — Old 

Age, and Death.148 


CHAPTER V. 

JAMES MONROE. 

Parentage and Birth. — Education. — Enters the Army. — A Legislator. — A Senator.— 
Political Views. —Mission to France. — Bonaparte. — Purchase of Louisiana. — Un¬ 
friendliness of England. — Prospective Greatness of America. — Washington’s Views 
of the French Revolution. — Col. Monroe, Governor. — Secretary both of War and of 
State. — Elected to the Presidency. — Northern Tour. — Purchase of Spain. — Syub- 
pathy with Revolutionary Soldiers. — The Monroe Doctrine. — Retirement and 
Death.169 


CHAPTER VI. 

JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 

Birth and Childhood. — Education in Europe. — Private Secretary.—Enters Harvard 
College. — Studies Law. — Minister to the Netherlands. — Commendation of Wash¬ 
ington.— Other Missions. — Return to America. — Elected to the Massachusetts 
Senate. — To the National House of Representatives. — Alienation of the Federal¬ 
ists. — Professor of Rhetoric. — Mission to Russia. — Anecdote of Alexander._ 

Treaty of Ghent. — Secretary of State. — President. — Unscrupulous Opposition. — 

Retirement. — Returned to the House of Representatives. — Signal Services._Pub 

lie Appreciation. — Death.. 


CHAPTER VII. 

ANDREW JACKSON. 

Birth and Education. — A Bad Boy. — Keeps School. — Studies Law. — Emigrate^ _ 

Frontier Life. — Low Tastes. — A Representative. — Senator. — Judge._Shop¬ 

keeper. — Major-General. — Quan’els and Duels. — Marriage and its Romance. — 

Fight with the Bentons. — War with the Indians. — Defence of New Orleans._ 

Passion and Violence. — President of the United States. — Administration._Retire¬ 
ment. — Conversion. — Religious Character. — Death. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

MARTIN VAN BUREN. 

Birth and^ Childhood. — Studies Law. — Talents and Industry. — Political Principles. — 
Success as a Lawyer and Politician. — Aids in the Election of Jackson. — Secretary 
of State. —Mrs. Eaton. — Resigns his Secretaryship. — Minister to England._Re¬ 

jected by the Senate. —Attains the Vice-Presidency. — Patronage of Gen. Jack- 
sen. — Chosen President. — Retirement and Declining Years. 





CONTENTS. 


7 


CHAPTER IX. 

WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 

PAQBi 

Birth and Ancestry. — Enters United-States Anny. —Is promoted. — Resigns his Com¬ 
mission.— Sent to Congress. — Governor of Indiana Territory. — His Scrupulous 
Integrity. — Indian Troubles.— Battle of Tippecanoe. —War with Great Britain.— 
Gov. Harrison’s Perplexities and Labors. — The British repulsed. — Tecumseh 
slain. — False Accusations. — Speech in Congress. — Reply to Randolph. — Letter to 
President Bolivar. — Temperance Principles. — Views respecting Slavery. — Duel¬ 
ling. — Elected President. — Death. 263 

CHAPTER X. 

JOHN TYLER. 

His Parentage. — Education and Scholarship. — Early Distinction. — Success at the Bar 
and in Political Life. — Democratic Principles. — Course in the Senate. — Elected 
Vice-President. — Accession to the Presidency. — False Position, and Embarrass¬ 
ments.—s Retirement from Office.—Joins in the Rebellion. — Death .... 274 


CHAPTER XL 


JAMES KNOX POLK. 

Ancestry of Mr. Polk. — His Early Distinction. — His Success as a Lawyer. — Political 
Life.—Long Service in Congress. — Speaker in the House.— Governor of Ten- 
nessee. — Anecdote. — Political Views. — Texas Annexation. — Candidate for the 
Presidency. — Mexican War. — Its Object and Results. — Retirement. — Sickness. 

— Death.284 


' CHAPTER XII. . 

ZACHARY TAYLOR. 

Birth. — Emigration to Kentucky. — Neglected Education.—Enters the Army. — Life 
on the Frontier. — Battles with the Indians. — Campaign in Florida. — The Mexican 
War. — Palo Alto. — Resaca de la Palma. — Monterey. — Buena Vista. — Nomi¬ 
nated for the Presidency. — Sufferings. — Death.299 

CHAPTER XIII. 

MILLARD FILLMORE. 

HLs Lowly Birth. — Struggles with Adversity. — Limited Education. — Eagerness for In¬ 
tellectual Improvement. — A Clothier. — A Law-student. — Commencement of Prac¬ 
tice. — Rapid Rise. — Political -Life. — In CongresL — Vice-President. — Presi¬ 
dent. — His Administration. — Retirement. — The Civil War.324 

CHAPTER XIV. 

FRANKLIN PIERCE. 

’’’baracter of his Father. — His Promise in Boyhood. — College-life. Political Views. 

— Success as a Lawyer. — Entrance upon Public Life. — Service in the Mexican 
War.—Landing in Mexico. — March through the Country. — Incidents of the March. 

— Anecdotes. — Nomination for the Presidency. — Election. — Administration. — 

Retirement.832 






CONTENTS. 


% 


CHAPTER XV. 

JAMES BUCHANAN. 

His Childhood’s Home. — Devotion to Study. — Scholarship, and Purity of Character.— 
Congressional Career. — Political Views. — Secretary of State. — Minister to the 
Court of St. James.— Ostend Manifesto. — Elected to the Presidency. — The New- 
Haven Correspondence. — Disasters of his Administration. — Retirement. . . 3u3 


CHAPTER XVI. 

ABBAHAMLINCOLN. 

Life in a Log-cabin. — Excellence of Character early developed. — A Day-laborer. — A 
Boatman. — A Shopkeeper. — A Student. — A Legislator. — A Lawyer. — A Mem¬ 
ber of Congress. — A Political Speaker. — The Debate with Douglas. — Eloquence 
of Mr. Lincoln. — Nominated for the Presidency. — Habits of Temperance. — His 
Seni-iments. — Anecdotes. — Acts of his Administration. — His Assassination . . 375 

CHAPTER XVII. 

ANDREW JOHNSON. 

His Lotvly Origin. — Struggles for Education. — Early Distinction. — Alderman, Mayor, 
State Representative, State Senator. — Speeches. — Member of Congress. — Gov¬ 
ernor. — Anecdote.—United-States Senator. — Opposition to Secession.--i>5peeches 
— Gradual Change of Views. — Military Governor of Tennessee. — Address to the 
Colored People. — Vigorous Administration. — Vice-President. — Speeches. — Presi¬ 
dent. — Political Views. — Agreement with the Republican Party. — Conflict with 
Congress. — His Policy. — Articles of Amendment. — Peter Cooper. — Future Pros¬ 
pects .. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

ULYSSES S. GRANT. 

Birth and Childhood.— Education at West Point. — Life on the Frontiers._The Mexican 

War. — Resigns his Commission. — The Civil War. — Returns to the Army. — Battle 
of Belmont. — Capture of Fort Donelson. — Battles of Shiloh and Pittsburg Landin'g. 
— Siege of Vicksburg. — Campaign of Chattanooga. — Public Honors. — Commis¬ 
sioned as Lieutenant-General. — Campaign of the Wilderness. — Capture of Lee’s 
Army. — Chosen President of the United States.. 


STEEL-PLATE ILLUSTRATIONS. 


1. Group plate of four Presidents, containing likenesses of George Washington, Abra¬ 
ham Lincoln, Andrew Jackson, and Andrew Johnson. Frontispiece, 
n. The British Fleet leaving Boston Harbor.. 

III. Group plate of six Presidents; viz., John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, James Madi¬ 

son, James Monroe, John Quincy Adams, and Martin Van Buren . . .97 

IV. Battle of New Orleans.. 

V. Battle of Buena Vista. 


VI. Group plate of seven Presidents; viz., William Henry Harrison, John Tyler, James 

K. Polk, Zachary Taylor, Millard Fillmore, Franklin Pierce, and Jas. Buchanan 253 

VII. Abraham Lincoln entering Richmond. 

VIII. Portrait of General U. S. Grant.... . 







LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


CHAPTER 1. 

GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

Ancestry of Washington. — His Birth and Childhood. — Anecdotes. — The Youthful En¬ 
gineer.— The Fairfax Family. — Life in the Wilderness. — War with the Indians.— 
Domestic Griefs. — The French War. — Washington’s Heroism at Braddock’s Defeat.— 
Scenes of Woe. — Mai-riage. — Inheritance of Mount Vernon. — Domestic Habits. — 
American Revolution.— Patriotism of Washington. — Appointed Commander-in-chief. 
— Expulsion of the British from Boston. — Battles of the Revolution. — Perplexities and 
Sufferings. — Spirit of Self-sacrifice. — Alliance with France. — Capture of Cornwallis. 

' —Attacks upon the Character of Washington. — The Tomahawk and Scalping-knife.— 
Close of i’'!0 War. — Washington chosen President. — His Retirement.— Peaceful Life 
at Mount Vernon. — Sickness and'Death. 


Two centuries ago, Virginia was almost an unexplored wilder¬ 
ness ; but, even then, the beautiful realm had obtained much 
renown from the sketches of chance tourists. The climate, the 
soil, the rivers, bays, mountains, valleys, all combined to render it 
one of the most attractive spots upon our globe. Two young 
brothers, of wealth, intelligence, and high moral principle,—Law¬ 
rence and John Washington,—were lured by these attractions to 
abandon their home in England’s crowded isle, and seek their 
fortunes in this new world. They were both gentlemen. Law¬ 
rence was a fine scholar, a graduate of Oxford: John was an 
accomplished man of business. 

After a dreary voyage of four months, they entered that mag¬ 
nificent inland sea, Chesapeake Bay, and from that ascended the 
beautiful Potomac. It was a scene as of Fairyland, which was 
spread around them that bright summer morning, when their 
vessel, propelled by a favoring breeze, glided over the mirrored 



10 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


waters of tha^ river which the name of Washington was subse*. 
quently to render so renowned. The unbroken forest in all its 
primeval grandeur swept sublimely over hill and valley. The 
birch canoes of the Indian, paddled by warriors in their pictu 
resque attire of paint and feathers, glided buoyant as bubbles 
over the waves. Distance lent enchantment to the view of wig¬ 
wam villages in sunny coves, with boys and girls frolicking on 
the be^ch and in the water. 

The two brothers had purchased a large tract of laiid about 
fifty miles above the mouth of the river, and on its western 
banks. John built him a house, and married Miss Anne Pope. 
Years rolled on, of joys and griefs, of smiles and tears, of births 
» and deaths; and the little drama, so trivial, so sublime, of that 

family life, disappeared, ingulfed in the fathomless sea of the 
ages. Augustine, the second son of John, who, like his father, 
was an energetic, wise, good man, remained in the paternal 
homestead, cultivating its broad acres. Life, if prolonged, is a 
tragedy always. Augustine’s wife, Jane Butler, as lovely in 
character as she was beautiful in person, died, leaving in the 
house, darkened with grief, three little motherless children. The 
disconsolate father, in the course of years, found another mother 
for his bereaved household. 

He was singularly fortunate in his choice. Mary Ball was 
every thing that husband or child could desire. She was beauti¬ 
ful in person, intelligent, accomplished, energetic and prudent, 
and a warm-hearted Christian. Augustine and Mary were mar¬ 
ried on the 6th of March, 1730. On the 22d of February, 1732, 
they received into their arms their first-born child. Little did 
they dream, as they bore their babe to the baptismal font and 
called him George Washington^ that that name w^as to become 
one of the most memorable in the annals of time. Explain it as 
we may, there is seldom a great and a good man to be found who 
has not had a good mother. 

In this respect, George Washington was very highly blessed. 
Both of his parents were patterns for a child to follow. The 
birthplace of George, though very secluded, was one of the most 
picturesque spots on the banks of the Potomac. His parents 
were wealthy for those times, and his home was blessed with all 
‘ substantial comforts. A beautiful lawn, smooth and green, spread 

. in gentle descent from the door-stone of their one-story cottage 


GEORGE WASHINGTON. 


11 


to the pebbly shore of the river, which here spread out into a 
maj^nificent breadth of nearly ten miles. On the eastern bank, 
there extended, as far as the eye could reach, the forest-covered 
hills and vales of Maryland. A few islands contributed their 
charm to this view of surpassing loveliness. The smoke of 
• Indian fires curled up from the forest, the flash from the paddle 
of the Indian canoe glanced over the waves, and occasion¬ 
ally the sails of the white man’s ship were seen ascending the 
stream. 

From earliest childhood, George developed a very noble char¬ 
acter. He had a vigorous constitution, a fine form, and great 
bodily strength. In childhood, he was noted for frankness, fear¬ 
lessness, and moral courage ; and yet he was as far removed as 
possible from manifesting a quarrelsome spirit, or from displaying 
any of the airs of the bravado. He never tyrannized over others; 
and none in his peaceful, rural, virtuous home were found to 
attempt to tyrannize over him. We must not omit the story, 
though the world has it by heart,, of his cutting the cherry-tree. 
His reply to his indignant father, whose impetuous nature was 
roused by the outrage, Father, I cannot tell a lie, I cut the 
tree,” was but the development in boyliood of the character of 
his manhood. The father was worthy of the child. Come to 
my heart,” said he, as he embraced him with flooded eyes : 
“I had rather lose a thousand trees than And falsehood in my 
son.” 

Man is born to mourn. After twelve happy years of union with 
Mary Ball, when George was but ten years of age, Augustine 
Washington died, leaving George and five other children father¬ 
less. ^The grief-stricken mother was equal to the task thus im¬ 
posed upon her. The confidence of her husband in her judgment 
and maternal love i-s indicated by the fact, that he left‘the income 
of the entire property to her until her children should respec¬ 
tively come of 3 ^e. Nobly she discharged the task thus imposed 
upon her. A nation’s homage gathers around the memory of the 
mother of Washington. George never ceased to revere his 
mother. He attributed to the principles of probity an"d religion 
which she instilled into his mind much of his success during the 
eventful career through which Providence led him. 

In the final division of the estate, the oldest son, Lawrence, the 


12 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


child of Jane Butler, inherited Mount Yernon, including twenty- 
five hundred acres of land. George received the paternal mansion, 
which was some distance farther down the river, with the broad 
acres surrounding it. The other children were also amply pro¬ 
vided for. Lady Washington, before her marriage, was regarded 
as one of the most beautiful girls in Virginia. Her figure was 
commanding, her features lovely, and her demeanor dignified and 
courtly. Lifers severe discipline developed a character simple, 
sincere, grave, cheered with earnest and unostentatious piety. 
Hei well-balanced mind gave her great influence over her noble 
son, which she retained until the hour of her death. 

Sirs. Alexander Hamilton tells the story, that, when George 
Washington was in the meridian of his fame, a very brilliant 
party was given in his honor at Fredericksburg, Ya. When the 
church-bell rang the hour of nine. Lady Washington rose, and said, 
‘'Come, George, it is nine o’clock: it is time for us to go home.” 
George, like a dutiful son, offered to his mother his arm, and they 
retired. We must not, however, fail to record that Mrs. Hamil¬ 
ton admits, that, after George had seen his mother safely home, he 
returned to the party. 

There was then, as now, in Virginia, great fondness for splendid 
horses. Lady Washington had a span of iron-grays, very spirited, 
and very beautiful. With much pride she sat at her window, and 
gazed upon the noble creatures feeding upon the lawn, and often 
gambolling like children at play. One of these fiery colts, though 
accustomed to the harness with his \companion in the carriage, 
had never been broken to' the saddle, "^ome young men, one ,jiay, 
companions of George, in a frolic endeavored to mount the fiery 
steed. It could not be done. George, who was then about thir¬ 
teen years of age, approached, soothed the animal by caresses, 
and, watching his opportunity, leaped upon his back. The horse, 
half terrified, half indignant, plunged and reared, in the vain 
attempt to free himself of his rider, and then, with the speed of 
the winds, dashed over the'fields. George, exultant, sat his horse 
like a centaur, gave him free rein, and, when he flagged, urged 
him on. 

Fearless, ardent, imprudent, he forgot the nervous energy of 
the noble steed, and was not aware of the injury he was doing 
until the horse broke a blood-vessel, and dropped beneath him. 


GEORGE WASHINGTON. 


13 


Covered with foam, and gasping for breath, the poor creature 
almost immediately died. George was greatly alarmed, and has¬ 
tened to his mother to tell her what he had done. Her calm and 
characteristic reply was,— 

My son, I forgive you, because you have had the courage to 
tell me the truth at once. Had you skulked away, I should have 
despised you.” 

There was a common school in the neighborhood, which George 
attended, and where he acquired the rudiments of a good English 
education. He was a diligent scholar, without developing any great 
intellectual brilliance. He possessed strong common sense, and a 
remarkably well-balanced mind. There is now extant a manuscript 
in his plaid, legible handwriting, in which, in those boyish days, 
he had carefully written out several forms of business-papers, that 
he might be ready on any emergency, without embarrassment, to 
draw up correctly such documents. The manuscript contains 
promissory-notes, bills of sale, land-warrants, leases, deeds, and 
wills. His serious, devotional character was developed in those 
early years. Several hymns, expressing earnest religious senti¬ 
ments, he had carefully transcribed. Another manuscript-book, 
which he had evidently collated with great care and sedulously 
studied, contained a record of Rules of Behavior in Company 
and in Conversation.” 

The boy is father of the man.” This lad of thirteen years, in 
his secluded rural home, wds pondering the great mysteries of the 
present and the future life, and was, with careful study, cultivating 
his mind, his manners, and his heart. He could hardly have made 
better preparation for the career which was before him had some 
good angel whispered into his ear the immense responsibilities 
which were to be laid upon him, and the renown he was to 
acquire. It was this early training, to which he was undoubt¬ 
edly in some degree stimulated by the mind of his mother, to 
which he was indebted for much of his subsequent success in 
life. 

At sixteen years of age, George, then a man in character, and 
almost a man in stature, left school. He excelled in mathematical 
studies, and had become familiar with the princiides of geometry 
and trigonometry and of practical surveying. It was then his 
intention to become a civil engineer. At that time, in this new 


14 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


and rapidly-growing country, there was great demand for such 
services, and the employment was very lucrative. There were 
then in the colonies but few men who were proficients in those 
sciences. George Washington came from school an accomplished 
man. He had formed his character upon the right model. Every 
thing he did, he did well. If he wrote a letter, every word was 
as plain as print, with spelling, capitals, punctuation, all correct. 
His diagrams and tables were never scribbled off, but all exe¬ 
cuted with great beauty. These excellent habits, thus early 
formed, were retained through life. 

Upon leaving school, George went to spend a little time with 
his elder half-brother, Lawrence, at Mount Yernbn. Then, as 
now, that was an enchanting spot. The house was situated upon 
a swell of land, commanding an extensive view of the Potomac and 
of the surrounding country. It was nearly one hundred miles 
above the birthplace of the two children and the home of George.. 
About eight miles from Mount Yernon, an English gentleman, Mr. 
William Fairfax, resided. He was rich, with highly cultivated 
mind and polished manners, and a model for imitation in all 
private and social virtues. Lawrence Washington had married 
one of his daughters. George became intimate with the family, 
and derived much advantage from his association with these 
ladies. 

Lord Fairfax, a near relative of William, a man of large fortune 
and of romantic tastes, had been lured by the charms of this 
delightful region to purchase a vast territory, which extended far 
away, over the Blue Mountains, to an undefined distance in the 
interior It was a property embracing rivers and mountains, 
forests and prairies, and wealth unexplored. Lord Fairfax was 
at that time visiting William. He was charmed with young 
Washington, his frankness, his intelligence, his manliness, his gen¬ 
tlemanly bearing, — a boy in years, a man in maturity of wisdom 
and character. 

Lord Fairfax engaged this lad, then but one month over sixteen 
years of age, to explore and survey these pathless wilds, a large 
portion of which was then ranged only by wild beasts and savage 
men. It may be doubted whether a lad of his age ever before 
undertook a task so arduous. With a few attendants, the boy 
entered the wilderness. It was the month of March, cold and 


GEORGE WASHINGTON. 


10 


blustering. Snow still lingered on the tops of the mountains, 
and whitened the* sunless ravines. The spring freshets had swollen 
the rivers. The Indians were friendly, hospitable, and willing 
to act as guides. Frontiersmen, a rough and fearless set of 
men, were scattered about among the openings in the wilder¬ 
ness. 

Through these solitudes the heroic boy was to thread his way, 
now following the trail of the Indian, now floating in the birch 
canoe, upon the silent rivers, and now climbing mountains or 
struggling through morasses which the foot of the white man 
had perhaps never yet pressed. Often the cabin of the settler 
afibrded him shelter for a night. Frequently he slept in the open 
air, with his feet to the fire. Again the wigwam of the Indian 
was hospitably open to receive him. It must have been a strange 
experience to this quiet, thoughtful, adventurous boy, to find 
himself at midnight, in the forest, hundreds of miles from the 
haunts of civilization. The cry of the night-bird, the howl of the 
wolf, or perhaps the wailings of the storm, fell mournfully upon 
his ear. He gazed upon the brands flickering at his feet, on the 
ground-floor qf the hut. The Indian warrior, his squaw, and the 
dusky pappooses, shared with him the fragrant hemlock couch. 
We have some • extracts from the journal which he kept, which 
give us a vivid idea of the life he then led. Under date of March 
15, 1748, he writes,— 

Worked hard till night, and then returned. After supper, we 
were lighted into a room; and I, not being so good a woodman as 
the rest, stripped myself very orderly, and went into the bed, as 
they call it, when, to my surprise, I found it to be nothing but a 
little straw matted together, without sheet or any thing else, but 
only one threadbare blanket, with double its weight of vermin. 
I was glad to get up and put on my clothes, and lie as my com¬ 
panions did. Had we not been very tired, I am sure we should 
not have slept much that night. I made a promise to sleep so 
no more in a bed, choosing rather to sleep in the open air before 
a fire.^^ 

On the 2d of April he writes, A blowing, rainy night. Our 
straw* upon which we were lying, took fire ; but I was luckily 
preserved by one of our men awaking when it was in a flame. 
We have run off four lots this day.” 



The fellowing extract from one of his letters, written at thisa 
time, develops his serious, thoughtful, noble character, and also 
the adventurous life into which he had plunged: — 

The receipt of your kind letter of the 2d instant afforded me 
unspeakable pleasure, as it convinces me that I am still in the 
memory of so worthy a friend, — a friendship I shall ever be J^roud 
of increasing. Yours gave me more pleasure, as I received it 
among barbarians and an uncouth set of people. Since you 
received my letter of October last, I have not slept above three 
or four nights in a bed ; but, after walking a good deal all the day, 
I have lain down before the fire on a little hay, straw, fodder, or 
bear-skin, whichever was to be had, with man, wife, and children, 
like dogs and cats ; and happy is he who gets the berth nearest 
the fire. I have never had my clothes off, but have lain and slept 
on them, except the few nights I have been in Fredericksburg.” 

Such experiences rapidly develop and create character. George 
returned from this tramp with all his manly energies consolidated 
by toil, peril, and hardship. Though but seventeen years of age, 


LIVES OF THE FltESIDENTS. 


WASHINGTON THE SURVEYOR IN A PERILOUS SITUATION. 








GEORGE WASHINGTON. 


17 


he was- a responsible, self-reliant man. The State of Virginisi now 
employed him as public surveyor. For three years he was en¬ 
gaged in these laborious duties, which introduced him to scenes 
of romance and adventure, in which his calm, strong, well-regu¬ 
lated spirit found a singular joy. We can hardly conceive of 
any thing more attractive than such a life must have been to a 
young man of poetic imagination. The Indian paddled him, in 
his lairy-like canoe, along the river or over the lake. Now he 
stood, in the bright morning sunlight, upon the brow of the moun¬ 
tain, gazing over an interminable expanse of majestic forests, 
where lakes slept, and streams glided, and valleys opened in Eden- 
like beauty. Though he often, during these three years, visited 
the home of his mother, his headquarters, if we may so speak, 
were with his brother at Mount Vernon, as this was much more 
accessible from his field of labor. Lord Fairfax, who, it is said, 
was the victim of a love disappointment, had built him a sub¬ 
stantial stone mansion in the valley beyond the Blue Bidge, 
where he was living in a sort of baronial splendor, and where 
George Washington was an ever-welcome guest. 

At the age of nineteen, George Washington was one of the 
prominent men of the State of Virginia. The Indians were now 
beginning to manifest a hostile spirit. There is between savage 
and civilized life an ^‘irrepressible conflict.” Where wild beasts 
range freely, offering food for the hunter, there cannot be highly 
cultivated fields. Where the hum of human industry is heard, 
with villages, churches, schools, and manufactories, there cau.be 
no forest left for, buffaloes, bears, and deer. Civilization was rap- 
idl}^ supplanting barbarism, and the savages were alarmed. They 
kindled their council-fires ; pondered the question of the encroach¬ 
ments of industry, education, and wealth; and resolved, Satan- 
inspired, to sweep every vestige of civilization from the land, 
that this continent might remain a howling wilderness. 

The war-whoop echoed through the forest, and the Indiana 
lighted their torches and sharpened their scalping-knives and 
tomahawks in preparation for the great battle. Billows of flame 
and wge desolated the land. Yelling savages rushed at midnight 
upon the cabin of the remote settler. Husband, wife, children, 
were all speedily massacred, and their bodies were consumed in 
the fire which destroyed their dwellings. No tongue can tell the 
woes which ensued. The whole military force of Virginia was 

3 


18 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


called into action to meet this terrible foe, emerging at will from 
the forest, striking its terrific blows, and "then retiring to those 
depths of the wilderness where pursuit was unavailing. The 
State was divided into districts, over each of which a military 
commander was appointed with the title of major. The respon¬ 
sibilities of these majors were very great; for, in the fearful emer¬ 
gency, they were necessarily intrusted with almost dictatorial 
powers. 

George Washington, who, be it remembered, was but nineteen 
years of age, was one of these majors. With characteristic saga¬ 
city and energy, he applied himself to the study of the military 
art, familiarizing himself with strategy and tactics, making himself 
a proficient in the manual exercise, and acquiring the accomplish¬ 
ments of a good swordsman. Ingredients of bitterness are 
mingled in every cup of life. Storm after storm sweeps the 
ocean. Lawrence Washington was attacked with a painful and 
fatal disease. With fraternal love, George accompanied him to 
the West Indies, hoping that tender nursing and a change of 
climate might save him. May you die at home ! ” is one of the 
Oriental benedictions. The invalid continued to fail during the 
tour, and only reached home in time to die. Virtues, like vices, 
love company, and live in groups. The Washingtons were a 
noble race. Lawrence was the worthy brother of George, en¬ 
deared to his friends by every attraction which can make home 
happy. He died at the age of thirty-four, leaving an infant child 
and a broken-hearted widow. 

The grief of George was very bitter. The loss of such a 
brother, so noble, so loving, was irreparable. Lawrence had been 
to George as both father and brother. He left a large property. 
Mount Vernon was bequeathed to his infant daughter; and, should 
she die without heirs, it was to pass to George, who was the ex¬ 
ecutor of the estate. 

Virginia, on the west, is bounded for a distance of several 
hundred miles by the waters of the Ohio ; la belle rivierej as the 
French appropriately named it. England had seized the coast of 
the North-American continent; had peopled it with colonies, whose 
enterprising, migratory population were rapidly crowding back 
into the vast and unexplored interior. France, with much sagacity, 
had seized the two most magnificent rivers of our land, the St. 
Lawrence and the Mississippi. Each of these European kingdoms, 


GEORGE WASHINGTON. 


19 


then equally powerful, was jealous of the other. While England 
was pushing her possessions rapidly towards the centre of the 
continent, France, equally eager to seize the boundless treasure, 
was rushing up the St. Lawrence and the Mississippi, establish¬ 
ing military posts and trading depots, forming treaties with the 
Indian tribes, and claiming, by right of these explorations, all that 
vast valley of millions of square miles drained by the Mississippi 
and its tributaries, and by the St. Lawrence and its chain of 
lakes. 

Instead of settling the question by some amicable compromise, 
both parties determined to fight. Probably both were equally 
arrogant and unrelenting in their demands. John Bull has never 
l>een famed for the spirit of conciliafion, and France has never 
been wanting in ambition. While the wordy warfare was raging 
between the two powerful contestants, the Indians shrewdly sent 
a deputation to the Governor of Virginia, inquiring what portion 
of the country belonged to them, since England, as they expressed 
it, demanded all the land on one side of the river, and France all 
upon the other. 

And now the dogs of war were let loose. France and England 
met, straining every nerve, upon the bloody arena. Both parties 
dragged the Indian tribes into the conflict. Woes ensued which 
can never be revealed until the judgment of the great day. Con¬ 
flagration, massacre, outrage, filled all homes with consternation, 
and deluged the land in misery. The solitude of the wilderness 
was broken as savage bands burst from the forest, with the hide¬ 
ous war-whoop, upon tl e cabin of the lonely settler. The shrieks 
of the father, the mother, and the maiden, as they suffered all 
which savage brutality could devise, swept like the. moaning 
wind through the wilderness, and no one was left to tell the 
tale. 

Just before hostilities commenced, the Governor of Virginia 
sent George Washington as a commissioner to remonstrate with 
the French against establishing their military posts upon the 
waters of the Ohio. To carry this remonstrance to the garrisons 
to which it was sent, it was necessary that he should traverse a 
wilderness for a distance of five hundred and sixty miles, where 
there was no path but the trail of the Indian, and no abode but 
the wigwam of the savage. In this undertaking, there were two 
objects in view. The ostensible one was to present the remon- 


20 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


strance: the real one was to ascertain the number, strength, and 
position of the French garrisons. 

It was a perilous enterprise. There was danger of perishing 
in the wilderness. There was danger from the tomahawk of the 
savage. There was danger that the French might not allow the 
commissioner to return with information so valuable to their foes ; 
and, in those rude times and regions, it was very easy so to arrange 
matters that the party could be plundered and massacred. No 
suitable person could be found to run these risks until George 
Washington volunteered his services. He was then but twenty 
years and six months of age. As Gov. Dinwiddie, a sturdy 
old Scotchman, eagerly accepted the proffered service, he ex¬ 
claimed, — 

Truly, you are a brave lad j and, if you play your cards well, 
you shall have no cause to repent your bargain.’’ 

Washington started from Williamsburg on this perilous expedi¬ 
tion on the 14th of November, 1753. There is something very 
sublime in the calm courage with which he set out, well knowing 
that he was to pass through the region of hostile Indian tribes; 
and that it was their practice, not merely to kill their prisoners, 
but to prolong their sufferings, as far as possible, through the 
most exquisite and diabolical tortures. He took with him but 
eight men, two of them being Indians. They soon passed the 
few sparse settlements which were springing up near the Atlan¬ 
tic coast, and plunged into the pathless forest. Winter was fast 
approaching, and its dismal gales wailed through the tree-tops. 
The early snow crowned the summits of the mountains, and the 
autumnal rains had swollen the brooks and the rivers. 

Guided by the sagacity of the Indians, they threaded the forest 
until they reached the Monongahela, which, flowing from the 
south, unites with the Alleghany from the north, and forms the 
Ohio. Here they took a canoe,, and in eight days paddled down 
the river to the mouth of the Alleghany, where Pittsburg now 
stands. They then descended the Ohio, with an ever-vigilant eye, 
for a distance of a hundred and twenty miles, to the principal 
port of the French commandant. Having successfully accom¬ 
plished thus much of his mission, and fearing that the Indians 
might of theii own will, or instigated by the French, intercept 
his return, he started, with but one faithful companion, to make 
lus way back through the wilderness on foot, with their packs 


GEORGE WASHINGTON. 


21 


on their backs, and their guns in their hands. Washington's sus¬ 
picions proved not to be groundless. Some Indians were put 
upon their trail by the French. Washington’s familiarity with 
wilderness life and Indian strategy enabled him to elude them. 
One Indian, however, succeeded in mining them, and offered his 
services as a guide. Treacherously ne led them from their path, 
hoping to lure them into some ambush, and striving, but in vain, 
with all the arts of Indian cunning, to get possession of Washing¬ 
ton’s gun. 

At night, seeing them so much fatigued by their day’s tramp that 
he thought that they could not possibly pursue him, he, at fifteen 
paces distant, fired at Washington, missed his aim, and sprang into 
the woods. He was caught. Washington’s companion, Gist, was 
for despatching him on the spot; but Washington, regarding the 
wretched savage but as the tool of others, insisted upon letting 
him go. They did so; and then, without rest and without a 
guide, pushed on through the long December night. When they 
reached the Alleghany River, opposite the present site of Pitts¬ 
burg, they found the banks of the river fringed with ice, and large 
blocks drifting furiously down the middle of the stream. All day 
long, with one poor hatchet, they toiled to build a, raft. It was a 
frail affair. As they struggled upon it through the broken masses 
of ice, it threatened every moment to go to pieces. 

In the middle of thQ stream, Washington’s setting-pole became 
entangled, and he was thrown into the river where it was ten 
feet deep. He was saved from drowning by clinging to a log. 
At length, they succeeded in reaching an island, where they 
passed a dismal night, their clothes frozen into coats of mail. 
The night was so cold, that in the morning the river was frozen 
over, and they crossed upon the ice. Washington’s journal of this 
tour was published in London, and attracted much attention, as 
it contained conclusive proof that the French would resist any 
attempts of the English to establish their settlements upon the 
Ohio. The Legislature of Virginia was in session at Williamsburg 
when Washington returned. Modestly, and unconscious that he 
would attract any attention, he went into the gallery to observe 
the proceedings. The speaker chanced to see him, and, rising, 
proposed that 

The thanks of this house be given to Major Washington, who 
DOW sits in the gallery, for the gallant manner in which he has 


22 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


executed the important trust , lately reposed in him by his Excel 
lency the Governor.^^ 

Every member of the house rose to his feet; and Washington 
was greeted with a simultaneous and enthusiastic burst of ap¬ 
plause. Embarrassed by the unexpected honor, and unaccus¬ 
tomed to public speaking, the young hero endeavored in vain to 
give utterance to his thanks. The speaker of the house happily 
came to his rescue, saying, “Sit down, Major Washington: your 
modesty is alone equal to your merit.” 

Gov. Dinwiddie, a reckless, headstrong man, instantly organized 
a force, with orders “ to drive away, kill, or seize as prisoners, all 
persons, not the subjects of the King of Great Britain, who should 
attempt to take possession of the lands on the Ohio or any of its 
tributaries.” 

A regiment of about four hundred men was raised. Wash¬ 
ington was appointed colonel. His mission was to march again 
through the wilderness, and drive the French from the Ohio. 
Washington had selected the point at the junction of the Monon- 
gahela and the Alleghany for a fort. But the French anticipated 
him. As he was hurrying to this spot with his garrison, and with 
the tools to construct a fort, he was disappointed and alarmed to 
hear that the French were already at work, under skilful engi¬ 
neers, in throwing up their ramparts upon the very spot which 
he had selected. A thousand men from Canada had descended 
the river in sixty bateaux and three hundred canoes. They 
had already eighteen pieces of cannon in position. Washington 
had arrived very near Fort Duquesne before he received these 
tidings. The thought of attacking the French in such overpow;- 
ering numbers, and behind their ramparts, was madness. Eetreat, 
in their exhausted state, back through the wilderness, was almost 
impossible. Besides, the French, through their spies, had kept a 
close watch upon them. Their Indian allies were on the march to 
intercept their retreat. Washington was then but twenty-two years 
of age. His sufferings, in view of the humiliating surrender of his 
whole force without striking a blow, must have been awful. He 
was ready for almost any act of desperation rather than to do 
this. As yet, there was no war declared. The nations were at 
peace. not a hostile gun had been fired. In building the fort-on 
disputed territory, which was then in the hands of the French 
the French had merely anticipated the English by a few days. It 


GEORGE WASHINGTON. 


23 


was said that Indians allies were marching against the English; 
but this was rumor merely. No such foe had appeared. There 
is some little diversity of statement in reference to what imme¬ 
diately followed; but, so far as can now be ascertained, the follow¬ 
ing appear to be the facts : — 

The French say that they sent out M. Jumonville as a civil 
messenger to confer with the English respecting the object of 
their approach, as there was no declaration of war. Washington 
was informed that a party of French, from the fort, was on the 
march to attack him by surprise. Just then, there came a night 
dark and stormy, with floods of rain. Washington took forty men, 
leaving the rest to guard the camp, and through the midnight 
tempest and gloom, guided by some friendly Indians, reached, just 
before daylight in the morning, the camp where Jumonville and 
his men were unsuspectingly sleeping. Washington, regarding 
them as foes who were on the march to strike him by surprise, 
fell instantly upon them. There was a short, flerce conflict. 
Jumonville and ten of his men were killed. A few escaped. The 
rest, twenty-five in number, were taken prisoners. The war was 
thus inaugurated, — a long, cruel, bloody war of seven years. 

This occurrence created great excitement at the time, and 
Washington was very severely blamed; but, now that the pas¬ 
sions of that day have passed, the French magnanimously concur 
in the general verdict, that the event must be regarded as an un¬ 
toward accident. Nothing is more certain than that Washington 
would have shrunk from any dishonorable deed. The peculiar 
perplexity and peril in which the young soldier was placed shield 
his fame from tarnish. 

But this act opened the drama of war with all its horrors. The 
French, apprised of the deed, and regarding it as one of the 
grossest of outrages (for Jumonville had really been sent as a 
peaceful messenger), immediately despatched fifteen hundred men, 
French and Indians, to avenge the wrong. Washington could 
not retreat; neither could he fight such overwhelming numbers 
with any hope of success. Still he threw up such breastworks as 
could be hastily constructed, and, with less than four hundred 
men, fought for a whole day against the army which surrounded 
him. .Starvation compelled him to capitulate. M. de Yiller^, the 
French commander, was generous. The Virginia troops were 
allowed to retire with every thing in their possession except 


24 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


their artillery. Thus they returned unmolested to the settle* 
ments. 

On the whole, Washington’s character did not suffer from this 
adventure. That he should be able to secure such favorable 
terms of capitulation, and march back his little force through tho 
wilderness, notwithstanding the lawless character of the Indians, 
who, in such formidable numbers, were marshalled against him, 
was considered evidence of both sagacity and military genius. 
Many of the wild frontiersmen, waifs from all lands, who had been 
gathered into the ranks of Washington’s army, were coarse and 
wicked men. Washington, as a gentleman and a Christian, ab¬ 
horred the vice of profane swearing, to which they were very 
much addicted. The following record from one of the orders of 
the day will explain itself: — 

Col. Washington has observed that the men of his regiment 
are very profane and reprobate. He takes this opportunity 
to inform them of his great displeasure at such practices; and 
assures them, that, if they do not leave them off, they shall be 
severely punished. The officers are .desired, if they hear any 
man swear or make use of an oath or execration, to order the 
offender twenty-five lashes immediately, without a court-martial. 
For a sec^ ad offence, he shall be more severely punished.” 

On another occasion, when commander-in-chief of the army 
struggling for our national independence, he invited a number of 
officers to dine with him. At the table, one of the guests, in con¬ 
versation, uttered an oath. Washington dropped his knife and 
fork as suddenly as if he had been struck a blow, and thus arrested 
the attention of the whole company. In very deliberate and sol¬ 
emn tones he then said, I thought that I had invited only gen- 
.tlemen to my table.” 

Early in the spring of 1755, Gen. Braddock, a self-conceited, 
stubborn man, landed in Virginia with two regiments of regular 
troops from Great Britain. Arrogant in the pride of his technical 
military education, he despised alike Frenchmen, Indians, and 
colonists. With his force, Braddock started on a march through 
the wilderness for the reduction of Fort Duquesne. Washington 
accompanied him as volunteer aid. As he abandoned important 
dome'stic business, and received no remuneration whatever for 
his services, he must probably have been influenced by patriotism 
and the love of adventure. In a straggling line four miles in 


GEORGE WASHINGTON. 


25 


length, this army of two thousand men, totally unacquainted with 
Indian warfare, and thoroughly despising such barbaric foes, 
commenced its march, with ponderous artillery and a cumbrous 
baggage-train, through the forest, for the distant junction of the 
Alleghany and the Monongahela. Washington, who well knew 
the foe they were to encounter, was alarmed at this recklessness, 
and urged greater caution. The regular British general was not 
to be taught the art of war by a provincial colonel, who had never 
Oven seen the inside of a military school. Successfully they had 
threaded the wilderness, and on a beautiful summer^s day they 
were exultingly marching along the banks of the Monongahela, 
when they entered a defile of rare picturesque beauty. 

The majestic forest spread around in all directions. On each 
side of a sort of natural path there was a dense growth of under¬ 
brush, rising as high as the men’s heads. It would seem as 
though some bad genius had formed the spot for an Indian ambush. 
Proudly the army straggled along, with laughter and song, with 
burnished muskets and polished cannon and silken banners. 
They were British troops, led by British regular officers. What 
had they to fear from cowardly Frenchmen or painted savages ? 
It was one of those silent days, calm, serene, sunny, when all 
nature seems hushed and motionless, which Herbert has so graphi¬ 
cally described,* — 

“ Sweet day, so still, so calm, so bright, 

The bridal of the earth and sky.” 

Suddenly, like the burst of thunder from the cloudless heavens, 
came the crash of musketry, and a tempest of lead swept through 
their astounded ranks. Crash followed crash in quick succession, 
before, behind, on the right, on the left. No foe was to be seen; 
yet every bullet accomplished its mission. The ground was soon 
covered with the dead, and with the wounded struggling in dying 
agonies. Amazement and consternation ran through the ranks. 
An unseen fire was assailing them. It was supernatural j it was 
ghostly. Braddock stood his ground with senseless, bull-dog 
courage, until he fell pierced by a bullet. After a short scene‘of 
confusion and horror, when nearly half of the army were slain, the 
remnant broke in wild disorder, and fled. The ambush was en¬ 
tirely successful. Six hundred of these unseen assailants were 
Indians. They made the forest ring with their derision in scorn 
of the folly of Braddock. 

4 


26 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


WasLington, through this awful scene, which he had been con¬ 
stantly anticipating, was perfectly collected, and, with the coolest 
courage, did every thing which human sagacity could do to retrieve 
the disaster. Two horses were shot beneath him, and four bullets 
passed through his coat. It is one of the legemds of the day, that 
an Indian sharpshooter declared that Washington bore a charmed 
life; that he took direct aim at him several times, at the distance 
of but a few paces, and that the bullets seemed either to vanish 
into air, or to glance harmless from his body. Eight hundred of 
Braddock’s army, including most of the officers, were now either 
dead or wounded. 

Washington rallied around him the few provincials upon whom 
Braddock had looked with contempt. Each man instantly placed 
himself behind a tree, according to the necessities of forest war¬ 
fare. As the Indians were bursting from their ambush, with tom¬ 
ahawk and scalping-knife, to complete the massacre, the unerring 
fire of these provincials checked them, and drove them back. But 
for this, the army would have been utterly "destroyed. All Wash¬ 
ington’s endeavors to rally the British regulars were unavailing. 
Indignantly he writers, “ They ran like sheep before the hounds.” 
Panic-stricken, abandoning artillery and baggage, they continued 
their tumultuous retreat to the Atlantic coast. The provincials, 
in orderly march, protected them from pursuit. Braddock’s defeat 
rang through the land as Washington’s victory. The provincials, 
who in silent exasperation, submitting to military authority, had 
allowed themselves to be led into this valley of death, proclaimed 
far and wide the cautions which Washington.had urged, and the^ 
heroism with which he had rescued the remnant of the army. 
After the lapse of eighty years, a seal of Washington, containing 
his initials, which had been shot from his person, was found upon 
the battle-field, and is at the present time in possession of one of 
the family. 

The state of things in Virginia was now awful. The savages, 
exultant, having lapped blood, had all their wolfish natures roused 
to the most intense excitement. War was with them pastime, and 
the only field of renown. Advancing civilization, penetrating the 
forests, had scattered its villages and secluded farm-houses along 
a frontier of nearly four hundred miles. It is one of the mysteries 
of God’s providential government, which no finite mind can fathom, 
that he could have allowed such horrors. No imagination ^an 


GEORGE WASHINGTON. 


27 


picture them. Midnight conflagration, torture and outrage in 
every form which fiends could devise, became the amusement ol 
bands of howling savages, who came and went like the wind. 

Fifteen hundred demons, calling themselves Indian braves, in 
gangs of sometimes but eight or ten, and again of several hundred, 
swept the frontier, making themselves merry with the shrieks of 
their victims, and showing no mercy to mothers or maidens or 
helpless infancy. The French 'made no attempt to pursue their 
advantage, but quietly retired to Fort Duquesne, there to await 
another assault, should the English decide to make one. 

A force nominally of two thousand men, but in reality of but 
about seven hundred, was raised, and placed under the command 
of Washington, to protect the scattered villages and dwellings of 
this vast frontier. For three years, Washington consecrated all 
his energies to this arduous and holy enterprise. It would require 
a volume to record the wonderful and awful scenes through which 
he passed during these three years. In after-life, Washington 
could not endure to recall the spectacles of suffering which he 
witnessed, and which he could not alleviate. At the time, he wrote 
to the governor, — 

“ The supplicating tears of the women, and moving petitions of ^ 
the men, melt me into such deadly sorrow, that I solemnly declare 
I could offer myself a willing sacrifice to the butchering enemy, 
could that contribute to the people’s ease.” 

One day, as Washington, with a small portion of his troops, was 
traversing a part of the frontier, he came upon a single log-hoitse. 
It was in a little clearing which the settler had made by his axe, and 
which was surrounded on all sides by the forest. As they were 
approaching the clearing, they heard the sound of a gun. Appre¬ 
hending some scene of violence and horror, they crept cautiously 
through the underbrush until they came in sight of the settler’s 
cabin. Smoke was curling up through the roof, while a party of 
savages were rioting around, laden with plunder, and flourishing 
dripping scalps. Upon the appearance of the soldiers, the savages, 
with the fleetness of deer, dashed into the forest. Washington 
thus describes the scene which met their eyes: — 

On entering, we saw a sight, that, though we were familiar with 
blood and massacre, struck us, at least myself, with feelings more 
mournful than I had ever experienced before. On the bed, in one 
corner of the room, lay the body of a young woman, swimming in 


28 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


blood, with a gash in her forehead which almost separated the 
head into two parts. On her breast lay two little babes, appar¬ 
ently twins, less than a twelvemonth old, with their heads also cut 
open. Their innocent blood, which once flowed in the same veins, 
now mingled in one current again. I was inured to scenes of 
bloodshed and misery; but this cut me to the soul. Never in my 
after-life did I raise my hand ag-ainst a savage, without calling to 
mind the mother with her little twins, their heads cleft asunder.’’ 

Eagerly the soldiers followed in the trail of the savages. They 
had gone but a few steps ere they found a little boy and his father, 
who had been working in the fields, both dead and scalped. The 
father had been ploughing, and the boy was driving the horse. 
When the father was shot down, the terrified boy had run some 
distance towards his home ere he was overtaken and murdered. 
Thus the whole family was swept away. Such were then the 
perils of life on the frontier. No home was safe. The inmates of 
every cabin were liable, at midnight, to be roused by the yell 
of the savage; and, while the torch was applied to the dwelling, the 
tomahawk would sink into the brain. Washington writes, — 

On-leaving one spot for the protection of another point of 
exposure, the scene was often such as I shall never forget. The 
women and children clung round our knees, beseeching us to stay 
and protect them, and crying out to us, for God’s sake, not to leave 
them to be butchered by the savages. A hundred times, I declare 
to Heaven, I would have laid down my life with pleasure, even 
under the tomahawk and scalping-knife, could I have insured the 
safety of those suffering people by the sacrifice.” 

In November, 1758, Fort Duquesne was wrested from the 
French, and the Valley of the Ohio passed from their control for¬ 
ever. The Canadas soon after surrendered to Wolfe, and English 
supremacy was established upon this continent without a rival. 
Washington was now twenty-six years of age. The beautiful 
estate of Mount Vernon had descended to him by inheritance. 
On the 6th of January, 1759, he married Mrs. Martha Custis, a 
lady of great worth and beauty. Washington was already 
wealthy; and his wife brought with her, as her dower, a fortune of 
one hundred thousand dollars. After the marvellously tumTultu- 
ous scenes of his youth, he retired with his bride and her two 
children to the lovely retreat of Mount Vernon, where he spent 
fifteen years of almost unalloyed happiness. 


GEORGE WASHINGTON. 


29 


He enlarged the mansion, embellished the grounds, and by pui* 
chase made very considerable additions to his large estate. The 
stem discipline of life had subdued his passions. His habits were 
frugal, temperate, and methodical. His imposing mansion, the 
abode of a generous hospitality, was visited by the most distin¬ 
guished men from all lands. Though a strict disciplinarian, he 
was a considerate and indulgent master. It was his invariable 
rule to retire to rest at nine o’clock, whether he had company or 
not. He rose at four o’clock in the morning. The religious inter¬ 
ests of the little community around him deeply engaged his atten¬ 
tion, and the gospel ministry received from him very efficient sup¬ 
port. The following letter, which he wrote to a nephew who was 
chosen to the legislative assembly, contains admirable advice, and 
is an interesting development of his own character: — 

If you have a mind to command the attention of the house, 
speak seldom, but on important subjects. Make yourself perfectly 
master of the subject. Never exceed a decent warmth; and sub¬ 
mit your sentiments with diffidence. A dictatorial style, though it 
may carry conviction, is always accompanied with disgust.” 

At Mount Vernon, Washington’s occupation was that of a large 
planter, raising wheat and tobacco. The wheat was ground upon 
the estate, and shipped for sale. The tobacco was sent to Eng¬ 
land ; from which country then almost every article of domestic 
use was imported. This splendid estate consisted of eight thou¬ 
sand acres, four thousand of which were in tillage: the remainder 
was in wood or uncultivated land. During these serene years 
of peace and prosperity an appalling storm was gathering, which 
soon burst with fearful desolation over all the colonies. 

We now come down to the notable year 1775. The British 
ministry, denying the colonists the rights of British subjects, 
insisted upon exercising the despotic power of imposing taxes 
upon the colonists, while withholding the right of representation. 
All American remonstrances were thrown back with scorn. Hire¬ 
ling soldiers were • insultingly sent to enforce obedience to the 
mandates of the British crown. The Americans sprang to arms, 
called a Congress, and chose George Washington commander-in¬ 
chief. A more perilous post man never accepted. The whole 
population of the United States then did not exceed three mil¬ 
lions ; being almost a million less than the present population of 
the single State of New York. England was the undisputed mis- 


80 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


tress of the seas, and the strongest military power upon the globe. 
The little handful of colonists, who stepped forth to meet this 
Goliah in deadly conflict, had neither fleet, army, military re¬ 
sources, nor supplies. The odds were so fearful, that it seems now 
strange that any courage could have met the encounter. 

Defeat to Washington would prove not merely ruin, but inevita¬ 
bly an ignominious death upon the scaffold. Sublimely he stepped 
forward from his home of opulence and domestic joy, and accepted 
all the responsibilities of the post. The green in Lexington had 
already been crimsoned with the blood of patriots, and the battle 
of Bunker’s Hill had rolled its echoes through Christendom. To a 
friend in England, Washington wrote,— 

“ The Americans will fight for their liberties and property. • 
Unhappy it is, though, to reflect that a brother’s sword has been 
sheathed in a brother’s breast, and that the once happy and peace¬ 
ful plains of America are either to be drenched in blood or to be 
inhabited by slaves. Strange alternative I But can a virtuous 
man hesitate in his choice ? ” 

To the Congress which elected him commander-in-chief of the 
American forces, he replied, — 

I beg leave to assure the Congress, that, as no pecuniary con¬ 
sideration could have tempted me to accept this arduous employ¬ 
ment at the expense of my domestic ease and happiness, I do not 
wish to make any profit from it. I will keep an exact account of 
my expenses. Those, I doubt not, they will discharge. That is 
all I desire.” 

To-his wife, who was ever the object of his most respectful 
regard and tender affection, he wrote that it was his greatest 
affliction to be separated from her, but that duty called, and he 
must obey. He said.that he could not decline the appointment’ 
without dishonoring his name, and sinking himself even in her 
esteem. 

Twelve thousand British regulars were then intrenched on 
Bunker’s Hill and in the streets of Boston. About fifteen thou¬ 
sand provincial militia, wretchedly armed, and without any disci¬ 
pline, occupied a line nearly twelve miles in extent, encircling, on 
the land side, Charlestown and Boston. The British war-ships 
held undisputed possession of the harbor. These veterans could, 
apparently with ease, at any time, pierce the thin patriot line. 

It requires long discipline to transform a man, just taken from 


GEORGE WASHINGTON. 


31 


the endearments of home, into merely a part of that obedient, un 
questioning machine called an army. A thousand trained soldiers 
are ever regarded as equal in military power to three or four times 
that number fresh from the pursuits of peaceful life. ‘ The British 
had opened fire* at Lexington on the 19th of -4pril, 1775. On the 
2d of July, Washington arrived in Cambridge, and took command 
of the army. The ceremony took place under the elm-tree which 
still stands immortalized by the event. ^ Gen. Gage was com¬ 
mander of the British forces. He had been the friend of Wash¬ 
ington during the seven-years’ war, and had fought by his side at 
the time of Braddock’s defeat; and yet this Gen. Gage seized 
every patriot upon whom he could lay his hands in Boston, and 
threw them all, without regard to station or rank, into loathsome 
dungeons. To Gen. Washington’s remonstrance against such bar¬ 
barity, he returned the insolent reply, — 

My clemency is great in sparing the lives of those who, by the 
laws of the land, are destined to the cord. I recognize no differ¬ 
ence of rank but that which the king confers.” 

^ Washington at first resolved to retaliate upon the English pris¬ 
oners. But his generous nature recoiled from Ihe inhumanity of 
punishing the innocent for the crimes of the guilty. He counter¬ 
manded the order, directing that the prisoners should be treated 
with all the humanity consistent with their security. In the sub¬ 
sequent and more successful war which the British Government 
waged against popular rights in Europe, they practised the same 
inhumanity. The French prisoners were thrown into hulks, and 
perished miserably by thousands. Napoleon, like Washington, re¬ 
fused to retaliate upon the helpless captives in his hands for the 
infamous conduct of their government. 

At length, after surmounting difficulties more than can be enu¬ 
merated, Washington was prepared for decisive action. In ^ dark 
and stormy night of March, he opened upon the foe, in the city, 
from his encircling lines, as fierce a bombardment as his means 
would possibly allow. Under cover of this roar of the batteries 
and the midnight storm, he despatched a large force of picked 
troops, with the utmost secrecy, to take possession of the Heights 
of Dorchester. There, during the hours of the night, the soldiers 
worked, with the utmost diligence, in throwing up breastworks 
which would protect them from the broadsides of the English 
fleet. Having established his batteries upon those heights, he 


32 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


commanded-tbe harbor; and the English would be compelled to 
withdraw, or he would blow their fleet into the air. 

In the early dawn of the morning, while the gale swept sheets 
of mist, and’floods of rain, over earth and sea, the British admiral 
saw, to his consteiyiation, that a fort bristling with cannon had 
vsprung up, during the night, almost over his head. He imme¬ 
diately opened upon the works the broadsides of all his ships; 
but the Americans, defiant of the storm of iron which fell around 
them, continued to pile their sand-bags, and to ply their shovels, 
until ramparts so strong rose around them, that no cannonade 
could injure them. The British fleet was now at the mercy of 
Washington’s batteries. In a spirit almost of desperation, the ad¬ 
miral ordered three thousand men in boats to land, and take the 
heights at every hazard. God came to the aid of the colonists. 
The gale increased to such fury, that not a boat could be launched. 
Before another day and night had passed, the redoubt could deYy 
any attack. 

The situation of the two parties was now very singular. The 
British fleet was at the mercy of the Americans: Boston was 
at the mercy of the English. If you fire upon the fleet,’^ 
said Gen. Howe, “ I will burn the city.” — If you harm the 
city,” said Washington, will sink your fleet.” By a tacit un¬ 
derstanding, the English were permitted to retire unharmed, if 
they left the city uninjured. 

It was the morning of the 17th of March, 1776. The storm 
had passed away. The blue sky overarched the beleaguered city 
and the encamping armies. AVashington sat upon his horse, 
serene and majestic, and contemplated in silent triumph, from the 
Heights of Dorchester, the evacuation of Boston. Every gun of 
iiis batteries was shotted, and aimed at the hostile fleet. Every 
torch* was lighted. The whole British army was crowded on 
board the ships. A fresh breeze from the west filled their sails; 
and the hostile armament, before the sun went down, had disap¬ 
peared beyond the distant horizon of thp sea. As the last boats, 
loaded to the gunwales with British soldiers, left the shore for the 
fleet, the exultant colonial army, with music and banners, marched 
over the Neck into the rejoicing city. It was a glorious victory, 
won by genius without the efiusion of blood. Such another case, 
perhaps, history does not record. Washington, awwwm- 

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GEORGE WASHINGTON. 


33 


of a powerful British army. During this time he had disbanded 
the small force of raw militia he at first had with him, and had 
recruited another army; and had then driven the enemy into his 
ships, and out into the sea. « 

The British, thus expelled from Boston, gathered their strength * 
of fleets and armies for an attack upon New York. The Congress, 
assembled in Philadelphia, which at first sought only the redress 
of grievances, now resolved to strike for independence. A com¬ 
mittee was appointed, of which Thomas Jefferson was chairman, 
to draft a Declaration. The committee presented this immortal 
document to Congress, and it was unanimously adopted. History 
has recorded no spectacle more sublime than that which was 
witnessed as the members of the Continental Congress came for¬ 
ward, each one in his turn, to sign that paper, which would be 
his inevitable death-warrant should the arms of America fail. 
Not one faltered. Every individual pledged to this sacred cause 
“ his life, his fortune, and his sacred honor.” It was the 4th of 
July, 1776. 

This Declaration was read from the steps of the State House 
in Philadelphia to an immense concourse, and it was received 
with bursts of enthusiasm. It was sent to Gen. Washington 
to be communicated to the army, which he had now assembled 
in the vicinity of New York. The regiments were paradea to 
hear it read. It was greeted with tumultuous applause. The 
troops thus defiantly threw back the epithet of rebellious colo¬ 
nists,” and assumed the proud title of “ The Army of the United 
States.” Gen. Washington, in an order of the day, thus alludets 
to this momentous occurrence : — 

The general hopes that this important event will serve as a 
fresh incentive to every officer and soldier to act with fidelity and 
courage, as knowing that now the peace and safety of his country 
depend, under God, solely on the success of our arms, and that 
he is now in the service of a State possessed of sufficient power 
to reward his merit, and advance him to the highest honors of a 
free country.” 

The latter part of June, just before the Declaration of Inde¬ 
pendence, two large British fleets, one from Halifax and the 
other direct from England, met at the mouth of the Bay of New 
York, and, disembarking quite a powerful army, took possession 
of Staten Island. Washington had assembled all his available 
6 


34 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


military force to resist their advances. The British Government 
regarded the leaders of the armies, and their supporters in Con* 
gross, as felons, doomed to the scaffold. They refused, conse¬ 
quently, to recognize any titles conferred by Congressional au¬ 
thority. 

Gen. Howe sent a flag of truce, with a letter, directed to 
Govirge Washington, Esq. The letter was returned unopened. 
As occasional intercourse between the generals of the two armies 
was of very great moment, to regulate questions respecting the 
treatment of prisoners and other matters, Gen. Howe, notwith¬ 
standing this merited repulse, wrote again, but insultingly, to 
the same address. Again the letter was returned unopened, 
and with the emphatic announcement, that the commander-in¬ 
chief of the American army could receive no communication from 
Gen. Howe which did not recognize his military position. The 
British officer then sent a letter, insolently addressed to George 
Washington, Esq., &c., &c,, &c. This letter was also refused. 
A communication was then sent to Gen. George Washington. 

Thus were the members of the British cabinet in London disci 
plined into civility. Gen. Howe frankly cpnfessed that he had 
adopted this discourteous style of address simply to save himself 
from censure by the home government. Washington, writing to 
Congress upon this subject, says, — 

“ I would not, on any occasion, sacrifice essentials to punctilio; 
but, in this instance, I deemed it my duty to my country, and to 
my appointment, to insist upon that respect, which, in any other 
than a public view, I would willingly have waived.’’ 

Gen. Washington, a gentleman and a Christian, was exceed¬ 
ingly pained by that vulgar and wicked habit of profa^ie swearing 
which was so prevalent among the troops. We have already 
alluded to his abhorrence of this vice. In August, 1776, he issued 
the following notice to his army at New York: — 

The general is sorry to be informed that the foolish and pro¬ 
fane practice of cursing and swearing, a vice hitherto little known 
in an American army, is growing mto fashion. He hopes that the 
officers will, by example as well as by influence, endeavor to 
check it, and that both they and the men will reflect that we 
can have little hope of the blessing of Heaven on our aims if we 
insult it by our impiety and folly. Add to this, it is a vice so 
mean and low, without any temptation, that .every man of sense 
and character detests and despises it.” 


GEORGE WASniNGTOIT, 


35 


Just before this, he had written to Congress, earnestly soliciting 
chaplains for the army. In this plea he writes, The blessing 
and protection of Heaven are at all times necessary, but especially 
so in times of public distress and danger. The general hopes 
and trusts that every officer and man will endeavor to live and act 
as becomes a Christian soldier.’^ 

By the middle of August, the British had assembled, on Staten 
Island and at the mouth of the Hudson Biver, a force of nearly 
thirty thousand soldiers, with a numerous and well-equipped fleet. 
To oppose them, Washington had about twelve thousand men, 
poorly armed, and quite unaccustomed to military discipline and 
to the hardships of the camp. A few regiments of American 
troops, about five thousand in number, were gathered near Brook¬ 
lyn. A few thousand more were stationed at other points on Long 
Island. The English landed without opposition, fifteen thousand 
strong, and made a combined assault upon the Americans. The 
battle was short, but bloody. The Americans, overpowered, sul¬ 
lenly retired, leaving fifteen hundred of their number either dead 
or in the hands of the English. Washington witnessed this rout 
with ihe keenest anguish; for he could not detach any troops from 
New York to arrest the carnage. 

To remain upon the island was certain destruction; to attempt 
to retreat was difficult and perilous in the extreme. The East 
River flowed deep and wide between the few troops on the island 
and their friends in New York. The British fleet had already 
weighed anchor, and was sailing up the Narrows to cut off their 
retreat. A vastly superior force of well-trained British troops, 
flushed with victory, pressed upon the rear of the dispirited colo¬ 
nists. Their situation seemed desperate. 

Again Providence came to our aid. The wind died away to a 
perfect calm, so that the British fleet could not move. A dense 
fog was rolled in from the ocean, which settled down so thick 
upon land and river, that, with the gathering darkness of the night, 
one’s outstretched hand could scarcely be seen. The English, 
strangers to the country, and fearing some surprise, could only 
stand upon the defensive. The Americans, familiar with every 
foot of the ground, improved the propitious moments with ener¬ 
gies roused to their highest tension. Boats were rapidly collected ; 
and, in the few hours of that black night, nine thousand men, with 
nearly all their artillery and military stores, were safely landed in 


36 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS* 


New York. The transportation was conducted so secretly, with 
muffled oars and hushed voices, that though the Americans could 
hear the. English at work with their pickaxes, and were even 
within hearing of the challenge of the hostile sentinels, the last 
boat had left the Long Island shore ere the retreat was suspected. 
God does not always help the ‘‘heavy battalions.” 

The British now presented themselves in such force, of both 
fleet and army, that Washington, with his feeble and dispirited 
band, was compelled to evacuate the city. A rash and headstrong 
man would have been goaded to desperation, and would have 
fisked a general engagement, which, in all probability, would have 
secured our inevitable ruin. A man easily depressed by adversity 
would, in hours apparently so hopeless, have abandoned the cause. 
Washington wrote to Congress,— 

“ Our situation is truly distressing. The check our detachment 
received has dispirited too great a proportion of our troops, and 
filled their minds with apprehension and despair. The militia, 
instead of calling forth their utmost efforts to a brave and manly 
opposition in order to repair our losses, are dismayed, intractable, 
and impatient to return to their homes.” 

The American army was now in a deplorable condition. It had 
neither arms, ammunition, nor food. The soldiers were unpaid, 
almost mutinous, and in rags. There were thousands in the 
vicinity of New York who were in sympathy with the British 
ministry.* Nearly all the government officials and their friends 
were on that side. A conspiracy was formed, in which a part of 
Washington's own guard was implicated, to seize him, and deliver 
him to that ignominious death to which the British crown had 
doomed him. We were then, not a nation, but merely a confed¬ 
eracy of independent colonies. There was no bond of union, no 
unity of counsel, no concentration of efibrt. Each colony fur¬ 
nished such resources as it found to be convenient, or withheld 
them at its sovereign pleasure. England’s omnipotent fleet swept, 
unobstructed, ocean and river and bay. Her well-drilled armies, 
supplied with the most powerful weapons and strengthened with 
all abundance, tramped contemptuously over the land, scattering 
our militia before them, burning and destroying in all directions. 
Gen. Howe, despising his foe, and confident that the colonists 
could present no effectual resistance to his powerful army, issued 
his proclamations, offering pardon to all who would bow the neck 


GEORGE WASHINGTON. 


37 


in unquestioning obedience to the dictation of the British king, 
excepting only Washington, Franklin, and a few others of the most 
illustrious of the patriots. 

Wa^ington was equal to the crisis. He saw that the only hope 
was to be found in avoiding an engagement, and in wearing out 
the resources of the enemy in protracted campaigns. To adopt 
this course required great moral courage and self-sacrifice. To 
rush madly into the conflict, and sell life as dearly as possible, 
required mere ordinary during. Thousands could be found capa¬ 
ble of this. Animal courage is the cheapest of all virtues. The most 
effeminate races on the globe, by a few months of suitable drilling, 
can be converted into heroic soldiers, laughing lead and iron and 
steel to scorn. But to conduct an army persistently through cam¬ 
paigns of inevitable defeat; ever to refuse a battle; to meet the 
enemy only to retire before him; to encounter silently the insults 
and scorn of the foe; to be denounced by friends for incapacity 
and cowardice; and, while at the head of a mere handful of 
ragged and unfurnished troops, to be compelled, in order to save 
that little handful from destruction, to allow the country as well 
as the enemy to believe that one has a splendid army, splendidly 
equipped,—this requires a degree of moral courage and an amount 
of heroic virtue, which, thus far in the history of this world, has 
been developed only in George Washington. 

America had many able generals; but it may be doubted 
whether there was another man on this continent who could have 
conducted the unequal struggle of the American Revolution to a 
successful issue. Washington slowly retired from New York to 
the Heights of Haarlem, with sleepless vigilance watching every 
movement of the foe, that he might take advantage of the slightr 
est indiscretion. Here he threw up breastworks, which the enemy 
did not venture to attack. The British troops ascended the Hud¬ 
son and the East River to assail Washington in his rear. A weary 
campaign of marches and countermarches ensued, in which Wash¬ 
ington, with scarcely the shadow of an army, sustained, iji the 
midst of a constant succession of disasters, the apparently hope¬ 
less fortunes of his country. At one time General Reed in anguish 
exclaimed, — 

“My God I Gen. Washington, how long shall we fly 

Serenely Gen. Washington replied, “We shall retreat, if 
necessary, over every river of our country, and then over the 


38 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


mountains, where I will make a last stand against our ene 
mies.’^ 

Washington crossed the Hudson into the Jerseys. The British 
pursued him. With consummate skill, he baffled all the efforts of 
the foe. With an army reduced to a freezing, starving band of 
but three thousand men, he retreated to Trenton. The British 
pressed exultantly on, deeming the conflict ended and the revolu¬ 
tion crushed. The Congress in Philadelphia, alarmed by the 
rapid approach of the foe, hastily adjourned to Baltimore. It was 
December, with its wintry gales, and frozen ground, and storms of 
sleet. The ‘‘ strong battalions of the foe tracked the patriots by 
the blood of their lacerated feet. With great difficulty, Washing¬ 
ton succeeded in crossing the Delaware in boats, just as the 
British army, in all its pride and power, with horsemen, infantry¬ 
men, banners, music, and ponderous artillery, arrived upon the 
banks of the stream. Nearly all of New Jersey was now in the 
hands of the British. They needed but to cross the river 
to take possession of Philadelphia. The ice was now so rapidly 
forming, that they would soon be able to pass at any point 
without obstruction. The enemy, with apparently nothing to fear, 
relaxed his vigilance. The British officers, welcomed by the 
Tories in the large towns, were amusing themselves with feasting 
and dancing, until the blocks of ice, sweeping down the stream, 
should be consolidated into a firm foothold. 

The night of the 25th of December, 1776, was very dark, and 
intensely cold. A storm of wind and snow raged so violently, that 
both man and beast were forced to seek shelter. The British 
officers and soldiers, considering the patriots utterly dispersed, 
and that a broad, deep, icy river flowed between them and the 
retreating American bands, gathered around the firesides. In the 
darkness of that wintry night, and amidst the conflict of its ele¬ 
ments, Washington re-embarked his troops to recross the Dela¬ 
ware, and to plunge with all his strength into the midst of the 
unsuspecting foe. 

In this heroic deed there were combined the highest dating and 
prudence. Facing the storm, and forcing his boats through the 
floating blocks of ice, he succeeded, before daylight the next 
morning, in landing upon the opposite shore twenty-four hundred 
men and twenty pieces of cannon. The British were carelessly 
dispersed, not dreaming of danger. The Americans sprang upon 


GEORGE WASHINGTON. 


39 


the first body of the foe they met, and, after a short but bloody 
strife, scattered them, capturing a thousand prisoners and six 
cannon. Elated with this success, which astounded and humbled 
the foe, the American troops recrossed the river, and gained their 
encampment in safety. The British were so alarmed by this in¬ 
dication of vitality in the American army, that they retreated to 
Princeton, and Washington took possession of Trenton. Soon the 
foe, under Lord Cornwallis, having received large re-enforcements, 
marched upon Trenton, confident that Gen. Washington could 
no longer escape them. It was at the close of a bleak, winter’s day 
that Cornwallis with his army appeared before the lines w’hich 
Washington had thrown up around Trenton. Sir William Erskine 
urged the British commander to make an immediate attack. 
Cornwallis replied,— 

“ Our troops are hungry and weary. Washington and his tat¬ 
terdemalions cannot escape; for the ice of the Delaware will 
neither bear their weight, nor admit the passage of their boats. 
To-morrow, at the break of day, I will attack them. The rising 
sun shall see the end of the rebellion.” 

The sun rose the next morning, cold but cloudless. In the night, 
the American army had vanished. Solitude reigned along those 
lines, which, the evening before, had been crowded with the ranks 
of war. Replenishing his camp-fires to deceive the enemy, at mid¬ 
night, with the utmost precaution and precipitation, he evacuated 
his camp, and, by a circuitous route, fell upon the rear of the Eng¬ 
lish at Princeton. The sun was just rising as Washington’s troops 
plunged upon the foe in this totally unexpected onset. A hundred 
and sixty of the British were shot down, and three hundred 
were taken prisoners. 

While this event was taking place at Princeton, Lord Cornwallii» 
stood upon an eminence, gazing in astonishment upon the deserted 
and waning fires of the Americans. Quite bewildered, he pressed 
his hand to his brow, exclaiming, “ Where can Washington be 
gone?” Just then, the heavy booming of the battle at Princeton 
fell upon his ear. “There he is !” he added. “By Jove! Washing¬ 
ton deserves to fight in the cause of his king.” Cheered by this 
success, Washington led his handful of troops to the Heights of 
Morristown. There he intrenched them for winter-quarters. He, 
however, sent out frequent detachments, which so harassed the 
enemy, that, in a short time. New Jersey was delivered from the 


40 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


presence of the foe. The country became somewhat animated by 
these achievements, and Congress roused itself to new energies. 

Washington, as we have said, was an earnest Christian. When 
the army was in the environs of Morristown, N. J., the communion- 
service was to be administered in the Presbyterian church of the 
village. Gen. Washington called upon Rev. Dr. Jones, then pas¬ 
tor of the church, and said to him, “Doctor, I understand that the 
Lord’s supper is to be celebrated with yon next Sunday. I would 
learn if it accords with the rules of your church to admit commu¬ 
nicants of other denominations ? ” 

“ Certainly,” was the reply. “ Ours is not the Presbyterian 
table, general, but the Lord’s table; and we give the Lord’s invi¬ 
tation to all his followers, of whatever name.” 

“ I am glad of it,” the general replied. “ That is as it ought to 
be. But, as I was not quite sure of the fact, I thought I would 
ascertain it from yourself,, as I propose to join with you on that 
occasion. Though a member of the Church of England, I have no 
exclusive partialities.” 

The doctor re-assured him of a cordial welcome, and the gen¬ 
eral was found seated with the communicants next sabbath. 

During the remainder of the winter, vigorous efforts were made 
in preparation for the opening of the spring campaign. The dif¬ 
ferent States sent troops to join the army at Morristown. The 
people of France, in cordial sympathy with our cause, sent two 
vessels, containing twenty-four thousand muskets, to Gen. Wash¬ 
ington.* Immense embarrassments were, however, continually 
experienced, from the fact that we were not a nation, but a mere 
conglomeration of independent States. Each State decided for 
itself the pay it would offer to the troops. Each State claimed 
the right to withhold any portion of its troops for its own security, 
however much they might be needed for the general service. It 
was these difficulties of the old confederacy which induced “ the 
people of the United States ” to form themselves into a nation^ 
with certain clearly defined rights reserved for the individual 
States. 

The sympathy excited in behalf of our cause in France was of 
invaluable service to us. The Marquis de Lafayette left his man¬ 
sion of opulence, and his youthful bride, to peril his life in the 
cause of American independence. The British officers, harassed 
by Washington’s sleepless vigilance, and yet unable to compel him 


GEORGE WASHINGTON. 


41 


or to lure him into a general engagement, ascended the Delaware 
in a fleet, with eighteen thousand soldiers, to capture Philadelphia. 
They landed near Elkton, at the .head of Chesapeake Bay. Wash* 
ington, with but eleven thousand men, marched to encounter them. 
The two hostile bodies met on the banks of the Brandywine. A 
bloody battle ensued. Lafayette was wounded. The Americans, 
overpowered, were compelled to retire. With unbroken ranks, 
and determination still unflinching, they retired upon Philadelphia. 

Congress had now invested Washington with nearly dictatorial 
powers, and the whole country approved of the act. In Philadel¬ 
phia, the army was rapidly recruited; and, before the British had 
recovered from the blows which they received at the Brandywine, 
Washington was again upon the march to meet them. It was so 
important to save Philadelphia from the enemy, that he resolved 
to hazard another battle. The two forces again met, about twenty- 
three miles from the city. Just as the battle commenced, a storm 
arose, so violent, and with such floods of rain, that neither army 
could long pursue the contest. Washington, after a short but 
severe engagement at Germantown, retired with his ammunition 
spoiled, and the British took possession of Philadelphia. 

Congress precipitately adjourned to Lancaster, and thence to 
York. For eight months, the English held the city. Various 
petty battles ensued, some of them quite sanguinary, but none 
leading to any important results. The Americans were, however, 
acquiring experience, and continually gaining new courage. The 
surrender of Burgoyne, which occurred about this time at Sara¬ 
toga, rolled a surge of exultation through all the States. 

Winter again came. The British were comfortably housed in 
Philadelphia, in the enjoyment of every luxury. Washington 
selected Valley Forge, about twenty miles from Philadelphia, as 
his secure retreat for winter-quarters. The soldiers commenced 
rearing their log-huts here the latter part of December. Each 
hut was fourteen feet by sixteen, and accommodated twelve sol¬ 
diers. The encampment, which was well protected by earthworks, 
presented the aspect of a very picturesque city, with neatly 
arranged streets and avenues. Eleven thousand men here passed 
the winter of 1777 and 1778. It was a period of great discour¬ 
agement and suffering. The army was destitute of food, clothing, 
arms, and powder,—in a state of destitution which Washington 
did not dare to proclaim abroad, lest the foe should rush upon him 


42 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


in liis helplessness. The commander-in-chief was assailed with 
terrible severity for this inaction. Though Washington felt these 
reproaches keenly, he endured them all with that external im¬ 
perturbability of spirit which so wonderfully characterized him 
throughout all the conflict. He wrote to Mr. Laurens, President 
of Congress,— 

‘‘ My enemies take an ungenerous advantage of me. They 
know the delicacy of my situation, and that motives of policy 
deprive me of the defence I might otherwise make against their 
insidious attacks. They know I cannot combat their insinuations, 
however injurious, without disclosing secrets it is of the utmost 
moment to conceal. But why should I expect to be exempt from 
censure, the unfailing lot of an elevated station? Merit and 
talent, which I cannot pretend to rival, have ever been subject 
to it.’^ 

It was in this dark hour of our struggle that France generously 
came forward to our aid; recognizing our independence, enter¬ 
ing into a friendly alliance with us, and sending both a fleet and 
an army to our support.' But for this efficient assistance, it is 
scarcely possible that our independence could then have been 
achieved. The tidings of the French alliance were received at 
Valley Forge with unutterable joy. The most dishonorable means 
were now taken by our enemies to paralyze the influence of Wash¬ 
ington by destroying his reputation. A pamphlet was published 
in London, and scattered widely throughout the States, containing 
forged letters, purporting to be private letters from Washington 
to his wife, found in a portmanteau taken from a .servant of Wash¬ 
ington after the evacuation of Fort Lee. 

The forgery was skilfully got up. The letters denounced Con¬ 
gress for madness in declaring independence, and contained many 
expressions, which, if true, proved Washington to be totally unfit 
to be in command of the American armies. But fortunately the 
reputation of the commander-in-chief was too firmly established 
in this country to be thus demolished. The British army now in 
New York and Philadelphia amounted to thirty thousand men. 
The whole American army did not exceed fifteen thousand. But 
the alliance with France gave us the assurance that 1-e-enforce¬ 
ments would soon come to our aid. The British, apprehensive 
that a French fleet might soon appear, and thus endanger the 
troops in Philadelphia, evacuated the city, and sent their heavy 


GEORGE WASHINGTON. 


43 


material of war to New York by water, while the troops com¬ 
menced their march through New Jersey. The cold of winter 
had given place to the heat of summer. 

Washington followed closely in the rear of the foe, watching 
for a chance to strike. The 28th of June, 1788, was a day of 
intense heat. Not a breath of air was stirring, while an unclouded 
sun poured down its blistering rays upon pursuers and pursued. 
The British troops were at Monmouth. The march of one more 
day would so unite them with the army in New York, that they, 
would be safe from attack. Washington ordered an assault. Gen. 
Lee, with five thousand men, was in the advance. Washington 
sent orders to him immediately to commence the onset, with the 
assurance that he would hasten to his support. As Washington 
was pressing eagerly forward, to his inexpressible chagrin he met 
Gen. Lee at the head of his troops, in full retreat. It is said that 
Washington, with great vehemence of manner and utterance, cried 
out, “ Gen. Lee, what means this ill-timed prudence ? ” The re¬ 
treating general threw back the angry retort, “ I know of no man 
blessed with a larger portion of that rascally virtue than your 
Excellency.” 

It was no time for altercation. Washington turned to the men. 
They greeted him with cheers. At his command, they wheeled 
about, and charged the enemy. A sanguinary battle ensued, and 
the English were driven from the field. Night closed the scene. 
The colonists slept upon their arms, prepared to renew the battle 
in the morning. Washington, wrapping his cloak around him, 
threw himself upon the grass, and slept in the midst of his sol¬ 
diers. When the morning dawned, no foe was to be seen. The 
British had retreated in the night to the Heights of Middletown. 
They left three hundred of their dead behind them. The Ameri¬ 
cans lost but sixty nine. The British also lost one hundred in 
prisoners, and over six hundred had deserted from their ranks 
since they left Philadelphia. The English common soldiers had 
but little heart to fight against their brothers who were strug¬ 
gling for independence. At Middletown, the British embarked 
on board their ships, and were conveyed to New York. 

They had now inhumanly summoned the Indians to their aid. 
The tomahawk and the scalping-knife were mercilessly employed. 
Towns, villages, farm-houses, were burned, and their inhabitants — 
men, women, and children — were massacred by savages, inspired 


44 


LIVES OF THE PBESIDENTS. 


with the fury of demons. The British ministry encouraged these 
atrocities. They said that rebellious America must be punished 
into submission; and that, in inflicting this punishment, it was right 
to make use of all the instruments which God and Nature had 
placed in their hands. 

But it must not be forgotten that there were many noble Eng¬ 
lishmen who espoused our cause. Some of the ablest men in both 
the House of Commons and the House of Lords, and thousands 
throughout England, were in cordial sympathy with the colo¬ 
nists struggling for their rights. Instead of adopting the execra¬ 
ble sentiment, Our country, right or wrong,” they acted upon 
that noble maxim, “ Our country, — when right, to be kept right; 
when wrong, to be put right.” Of these men, some pleaded for 
us at home, some aided us with their money and counsel, and 
some entered our ranks as officers and soldiers. Lord Chatham, in 
tones which echoed throughout the civilized world, exclaimed 
in the House of Lords, and at the very foot of the throne, “ Were 
I an American, as I am an Englishman, I would never lay down 
my arms, — never, never, never ! ” 

Another cold and cheerless winter came; and the American 
army went into winter-quarters mainly at West Point, on the 
Hudson. The British remained within their lines at New York. 
They sent agents, however, to the Six Nations of Indians, to arm 
them against our defenceless frontier. These fierce savages, 
accompanied by Tory bands, perpetrated horrors too awful for 
recital. The massacres of Cherry Valley and of Wyoming were 
among the most awful of the tragedies which have ever been wit¬ 
nessed on this globe. The narrative of these fiendish deeds sent 
a thrill of horror through England as well as America. Four 
thousand men were sent by Washington into the wilderness, to 
arrest, if possible, these massacres. The savages, and their still 
more guilty allies, were driven to Niagara, where they were re¬ 
ceived into an English fortress. 

The summer campaign opened with an indiscriminate devasta^ 
tion and plunder, pursued vigorously by the English. “A war of 
this sort,” said Lord George Germain, ^‘will probably induce the 
rebellious provinces to return to their allegiance.” The British 
now concentrated their forces for an attack upon West Point, and 
to get the control of the upper waters of the Hudson. Washing¬ 
ton detected and thwarted their plan. Gen. Clinton, who was 


GEORGE WASHINGTON. 


45 


then in command of the British forces, exasperated by this dis- 
comfiture, commenced a more vigorous prosecution of a system 
of violence and plunder upon the defenceless towns and farm¬ 
houses of the Americans who were unprotected. The sky was 
reddened with wanton conflagration. Women and children were 
driven houseless into the fields. The flourishing towns of-Fair- 
field and Norwalk, in Connecticut, were reduced to ashes. 

While the enemy was thus ravaging that defenceless State, 
Washington planned an expedition against Stony Point, on the 
Hudson, which was held by the British. Gen. Wayne conducted 
the enterprise, on the night of the 15th of July, with great gal¬ 
lantry and success. Sixty-three of the British were killed, five 
hundred and forty-three were taken prisoners, and all the military 
stores of the fortress captured. During this summer campaign, 
the American army was never sufficiently strong to take the offen¬ 
sive. It was, however, incessantly employed striking blows upon 
the English wherever the eagle eye of Washington could discern 
an exposed spot. 

The winter of 1779 set in early, and with unusual severity. 
The American army was in such a starving condition, that Wash¬ 
ington was compelled to make the utmost exertions to save his 
wasting band from annihilation. Incited by his urgent appeals, 
the colonies made new efforts to augment their forces for a more 
vigorous campaign in the spring. Cheering intelligence arrived 
that a land and naval force might soon be expected from our gen¬ 
erous friends the French. 

In July, twelve vessels of war arrived from France, with arms, 
ammunition, and five thousand soldiers. This squadron was, how¬ 
ever, immediately blockaded in Newport by a stronger British 
fleet ) and another expedition, which was about to sail from Brest, 
in France, was effectually shut up in that port. The war still raged 
in detachments, widely spread; and conflagration, blood, and misery 
deluged our unhappy land. 

These long years of war and woe filled many even of the most 
sanguine hearts with despair. Not a few true patriots deemed it 
madness for the colonies, impoverished as they now were, any 
longer to contend against the richest and most powerful monarchy 
upon the globe. Gen. Arnold, who was at this time in command 
at West Point, saw no hope for his country. Believing the ship 
to be sinking, he ingloriously sought to take care of himself. He 


46 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS, 


turned traitor, and offered to sell his fortress to the English. The 
treason was detected : but the traitor escaped; and the lamented 
Andre, who had been lured into the position of a spy, became the 
necessary victim of Arnold’s crime. 

Lord Cornwallis was now, with a well-provided army and 
an assisting navy, overrunning the two Carolinas. Gen. Greene 
was sent, with all the force which Washington could spare, to 
watch and harass the invaders, and to furnish the inhabitants 
with all the protection in his power. Lafayette was in the vicin¬ 
ity of New York, with his eagle eye fixed upon the foe, ready to 
pounce upon any detachment which presented the slightest ex¬ 
posure. Washington was everywhere, with patriotism which 
never flagged, with hope which never failed, cheering the army, 
animating the inhabitants, rousing Congress, and guiding with his 
well-balanced mind both military and civil legislation. Thus the 
dreary summer of 1780 lingered away in our war-scathed land. 

Again our heroic little army went into winter-quarters, mainly 
on the banks of the Hudson. As the spring of 1781 opened, the 
war was renewed. The British directed their chief attention to 
the South, which was far weaker than the North. Bichmond, in 
Yirginia, was laid in ashes; and a general system of devastation 
and plunder prevailed. The enemy ascended the Chesapeake and 
the Potomac with armed vessels. They landed at Mount Vernon. 
The manager of the estate, to save the mansion from pillage and 
flames, furnished the legalized robbers with abundance of supplies. 
Washington was much displeased. He wrote to his agent,— 

It would have been a less painful circumstance to me to have 
heard, that, in consequence of your non-compliance with their 
request, they had burned ray house, and laid the plantation in 
ruins. You ought to have considered yourself as my representa¬ 
tive, and should have reflected on the bad example of communi¬ 
cating with the enemy, and making a voluntary offer of refresh¬ 
ments to them, with a view to prevent a conflagration.” 

The prospects of the country were still very dark. On the 1st 
of May, 1781, Washington wrote, “Instead of magazines filled 
with provisions, we have a scanty pittance scattered here and 
there in the different States. Instead of arsenals well supplied, 
they are poorly provided, and the workmen all leaving. Instead 
of having field-equipage in readiness, the quartermaster-general 
is but now applying to the several States to supply these things. 


GEORGE WASHINGTON. 


47 ' 

Instead of having the regiments completed, scarce any State has, 
at this hour, an eighth part of its quota in the field; and there is 
little prospect of their ever getting more than half. In a word, 
instead of having every thing in readiness to take the field, we 
have nothing. Instead of having the prospect of a glorious offen¬ 
sive campaign, we have a gloomy and bewildering defensive one, 

. unless we should receive a powerful aid of ships, land-troops, and 
money, from our generous allies.” 

The army had in fact, about this time, dwindled away to three 
thousand ; and the paper-money issued by Congress, with which 
the troops were paid, had become almost entirely valueless. Lord 
Cornwallis was now at Yorktown, in Virginia, but a few miles 
from Chesapeake Bay. There was no force in his vicinity seri- 
ousl}^ to annoy him. Washington resolved, in conjunction with 
our allies from France, to make a bold movement for his capture. 
He succeeded in deceiving the .English into the belief that he was 
making great preparations for the siege of New York. Thus they 
were prevented from rendering any aid to Yorktown. 

By rapid marches, Washington hastened to encircle the foe. 
Early in September, Lord Cornwallis, as he arose one morning, was 
amazed to see, in the mys of the morning sun, the heights around 
Lim gleaming with the bayonets and the batteries of the Ameri¬ 
cans. At about the same hour, the French fleet appeared, in 
invincible strength, before the harbor. Cornwallis was caught. 
There was no escape; there was no retreat. Neither, by land 
nor by sea could he obtain any supplies. Shot and shell soon 
began to fall thickly into his despairing lines. Famine stared 
him in the face. After a few'days of hopeless conflict, on the 
19th of October, 1781, he was compelled to surrender. Seven 
thousand British veterans laid down their arms to the victors. 
One hundred and sixty pieces of cannon, with corresponding 
military stores, graced the triumph. Without the assistance of 
our generous allies the French, we could not have gained this 
victory. Let not our gratitude be stinted or cold. 

When the British soldiers were marching from their intrench- 
ments to lay down their arms, Washington thus addressed his 
•troops: “ My brave fellows, let no sensation of satisfaction for 
the triumphs you have gained induce you to insult your fallen 
enemy. Let no shouting, no clamorous huzzaing, increase their 
mortification. Posterity will huzza for us.” 


48 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


This glorious capture roused hope and vigor all over the 
country. The British cabinet became disheartened by our indom¬ 
itable perseverance. The darkness of the long night was passing 
away. The day after the capitulation, Washington devoutly 
issued the following order to the army: — 

^‘Divine service is to be performed to-morrow in the several 
brigades and divisions. The commander-in-chief earnestly rec¬ 
ommends that the troops not on duty should universally attend, 
with that seriousness of deportment, and gratitude of heart, whicn 
the recognition of such reiterated and astonishing interpositions 
of Providence demands of us.’^ 

/ The joyful tidings reached Philadelphia at midnight. A watch- 
"inan traversed the streets, shouting at intervals, Past twelve 
o’clock, and a pleasant morning. Cornwallis is taken ! ” 

These words rang upon the ear almost like the trump which 
wakes the dead. Candles were lighted; windows thrown up; 
figures in night-robes and night-caps bent eagerly out to catch 
the thrilling sound; shouts were raised ; citizens rushed into the 
streets, half clad, — they wept; they laughed. The news flew 
upon the wings of the wind, nobody can tell how; and the shout 
of an enfranchised people rose, like a roar of thunder, from our 
whole land. With France for an ally, and with such a victory, the 
question was now settled, and forever, that republican America 
would never again yield to the aristocratic government of England. 

Though the fury of the storm was over, the billows of war had 
not yet subsided. Washington, late in November, 1781, again 
retired to winter-quarters. He urged Congress to make preparar 
tions for the vigorous prosecution of the war in the spring, as the 
most effectual means of securing a speedy and an honorable peace. 
The conviction was now so general that the war was nearly at an 
end, that with diflSculty ten thousand men were marshalled in the 
camp. The army, disheartened by the apparent inefficiency of 
Congress, — for Congress had really but very little power, being 
then only a collection of delegates from independent States, — very 
emphatically expressed the wish that Washington would assume 
the supreme command of the government, and organize the coun¬ 
try into a constitutional kingdom, with himself at the head. 

But Washington was a republican. He believed that.the peo¬ 
ple of this country, trained in the science of legislation, religious 
in their habits, and intelligent, were abundantly capable of gov- 


GEORGE WASHINGTON, 


49 


erning themselves. He repelled the suggestion promptly, and 
almost indignantly. 

Early in May, the British cabinet opened negotiations for peace. 
Hostilities were, by each party, tacitly laid aside. Negotiations 
were protracted in Paris during the summer and the ensuing 
winter. Washington had established his headquarters at New- 
burg, on the Hudson, and was busy in consolidating the interests 
of our divided and distracted country. A government of repub¬ 
lican liberty, and yet of efficiency, was to be organizad ; and its 
construction required the highest energies of every thinking mind. 

It was also necessary to keep the army ever ready for battle ; 
for a new conflict miglit, at any moment, break out. Thus the 
summer and winter of 1782 passed away. 

The snow was still lingering in the laps of the Highlands when 
the joyful tidings arrived that a treaty of peace had been signed 
at'Paris. The intelligence was communicated to the American 
army on the 19th of April, 1783,—just eight years from the day 
when the conflict was commenced on the common at Lexington. 
England had, for eight years, deluged this land with blood and 
woe. Thousands had perished on the gory field of battle; thou¬ 
sands had been beggared ; thousands had been made widows and 
orphans, and doomed to a life-long wretchedness. It was the fear¬ 
ful price which America paid for independence. 

Late in November, the British evacuated New York, entered 
their ships, and sailed for their distant island. Washington, 
marching from West Point, entered the city as our vanquished 
foes departed. It was a joyful day, and no untoward incident 
marred its festivities. America was free and independent. 
Washington was the savior of his country. 

And now the day arrived when Washington was to take leave 
of his companions in arms, to retire to his belqved retreat at Mount 
Yernon. The affecting interview took place on the 4th of Decem¬ 
ber. Washington, with a flushed cheek and a swimming eye, 
entered the room where the principal officers of his army were 
assembled. His voice trembled with emotion as he said,—■ 

‘‘With a heart full of love and gratitude, I now take leave of 
you. I most devoutly wish that your latter days may be as pros¬ 
perous and happy as your former ones have been glorious and 
honorable. I cannot come to each of you to take my leave, but 
shall be obliged if each of you will come and take me by the hand.’^ 
7 


50 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


All unaccustomed as Washington was to exhibit emotion, ho 
was now quite overcome. Tears blinded his eyes, and he could 
say no more. One after another, these heroic men silently grasped 
his hand in this last parting. Not a word was spoken. It was a 
scene of those invisible strugglings of the spirit which the pen* 
oil cannot picture, and which words cannot describe. Washington 
travelled slowly towards his beloved home at Mount Vernon, from 
which he had so long been absent. In every city and village 
through which he passed, he was greeted with love and veneration. 
At Annapolis he met the Continental Congress, where he was to 
resign his commission. It was the 23d of December, 1783. All 
the members of Congress, and a large concourse of spectators, were 
present. His address was closed with the following words: — 
Having now finished the work assigned me, I retire from the 
great theatre of action; and bidding an affectionate farewell to 
this august body, under whose orders 1 have so long acted, I here 
ofier my commission, and take my leave of all the employments 
of public life.’’ 



MOUNT VERNON. 












GEORGE WASniNGTOK. 


51 


The next day, he returned to Mount Vernon. The following 
extract from a letter which he then wrote to Lafayette reveals 
those gentle and domestic traits of character which had been 
somewhat veiled by the stern duties of his military career: — 

At length, I am become a private citizen: and under the 
shadow of my own vine and fig-tree, free from the bustle of a camp 
and the busy scenes of public life, I am solacing myself with those 
tranquil enjoyments, of which the soldier, who is ever in pursuit 
of lame; the statesman, whose watchful days and sleepless nights 
are spent in devising schemes to promote the welfare of his own, 
perhaps the ruin of other countries, as if this globe were insuflS- 
cient for us all; and the courtier, who is always watching the 
countenance of his prince, in hopes of catching a gracious smile, 
— can have very little conception. Envious of none, I am deter¬ 
mined to be pleased with all. And this, my dear friend, being the 
order for my march, I will move gently down the stream of life 
until I sleep with my fathers.” 

The great problem which now engrossed all minds was the con¬ 
solidation of the thirteen States of America in some way which 
should secure to the States certain reserved rights of local admin¬ 
istration ; whil^ a nation should be formed, with a general govern-, 
men^, which could exert the energies of centralized power, and 
thus take its stand, the equal in efficiency, with the renowned 
kingdoms and empires of earth. The old confederacy, which* was 
merely a conglomeration of independent States, had developed 
such utter weakness, that all thoughts were turned to the organi¬ 
zation of a government upon a ditlerent principle. 

To this subject, Washington, who had suffered so intensely from 
the ifiefficiency of the Continental Congress, devoted his most 
anxious attention. A convention was called to deliberate upon 
this momentous question. It assembled at PhiladeljDhia in the 
year 1787. Washington was sent a delegate from Virginia, and, 
by unanimous vote, was placed in the president’s chair. The 
result was the present Constitution of tlie United States; which, 
nyecting a mere confederacy of independent States, created a 
nation from the people of all the States, with supreme powers for 
all the purposes of a general government, and leaving with the 
States, as State governments leave with the towns, those minor ques¬ 
tions of local law in which the integrity of the nation was not 
involved. The Constitution of the United States is, in the judg- 


52 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


ment of the millions of the American people, the most sagacious 
document which has ever emanated from uninspired minds. It 
has created the strongest government upon this globe. It has 
made the United States of America what they now are. The 
world must look at the fruit, and wonder and admire. 

It is stated in the Madison Papers, that, in the convention which 
framed our Constitution, it was proposed that the title of the 
President of the United States should be His Excellency; but 
the Committee of Style and Arrangement negatived this, and 
reported in favor of the simple title of President of the United 
States. It has been said that this was done at the instance of Dr.^ 
Franklin, who, when the question was under discussion, sarcas¬ 
tically proposed to insert immediately after “ His Excellency ” 
the words, And the Vice-President shall be styled. His most sit- 
perfluous Highness.’’^ 

There were some provisions in the compromises of the Consti¬ 
tution from which the heart and mind of Washington recoiled. 
He had fought for human liberty,— to give to the masses of the 
people those rights of which aristocratic usurpation had so long 
defrauded them. “All men are born free and equaP’ was the 
motto of the banner under which he had rallied his strength. 
Equal rights, under the law, for all men, was the corner-stone of 
that American democracy which Washington, Adams, and Jeffer¬ 
son wished to establish •; but there was a spirit of aristocracy, of 
exclusive rights for peculiar classes and races, which infused its 
poison into the Constitution, and which subsequently worked out 
its natural fruit of woe and death. Alluding to the unfortunate 
compromise which this spirit insisted upon, in reference to slavery 
and the colored people, Washington wrote,— 

“There are some things in this new form, I will readily ac¬ 
knowledge, wliich never did, and I am persuaded never will, 
obtain my cordial approbation. But I did then conceive, and do 
now most firmly believe, that, in the aggregate, it is the best 
constitution that can be obtained at the epoch, and that this, or a 
dissolution, awaits our choice, and is the only alternative.^’ 

Upon the adoption of the Constitution, all eyes were turned to 
Washington as chief magistrate. By the unanimous voice of the 
electors, he was chosen the first President of the United States. 
There was probably scarcely a dissentient voice in the nation. 
New York was then the seat of government. As Washington 


GEORGE WASHINGTON. 


53 


left Mount Vernon for the metropolis to assume these new duties 
of toil and care, we find recorded in his journal, — 

About ten o’clock, I bade adieu to Mount Vernon, to private 
life, and to domestic felicity; and, with a mind oppressed with 
more anxious and painful sensations than I have words to express, 
set out for New York, with the best disposition to render service 
to my country in obedience to its call, but with less hopes of 
answering its expectations.” 

Washington was inaugurated President of the United States 
on the 30th of April, 1789. He remained in the presidential chair 
two terms, of four years each. At the close of his illustrious ad¬ 
ministration, in the year 1796, he again retired to the peaceful 
shades of Mount Vernon, beqeueathing to his gratfule conutrymen 
the rich legacy of his Farewell Address. The admiration with 
which these parting counsels were received never will wane. 
Soon after Washington’s return to his beloved retreat at Mount 
Vernon, he wrote a letter to a friend, in which he described the 
manner in which he passed his time. He rose with the sun, and 
first made preparations for the business of the day. 

^‘By the time I have accomplished these matters,” he adds, 
breakfast is ready. This being over, I mount my horse, and 
ride round my farms, which employs me until it is time to dress 
for dinner, at which I rarely miss to see strange faces, come, as 
they say, out of respect to me. And how difierent is this 'from 
having a few friends at the social board ! The usual time of sit¬ 
ting at table, a walk, and tea, bring me within the dawn of candle¬ 
light ; previous to which, if not prevented by company, I resolve, 
that, as soon as the glimmering taper supplies the place of the 
great luminary, I will retire to my writing-table, and acknowledge 
the letters I have received. . Having given you this history of a 
day, it will serve for a year.” 

The following anecdotes have been related, illustrative of Presi¬ 
dent Washington’s habits of punctuality. Whenever he assigned 
to meet Congress at noon, he seldom failed of passing the door of 
the hall when the clock struck twelve. His dining-hour was at 
four o’clock, when he always sat down to his table, whether his 
guests were assembled or not, merely allowing five minutes for 
the variation of time-pieces. To those who came late, he re¬ 
marked, “ Gentlemen, we are punctual here: my cook never asks 
whether the company has arrived, but whether the hour has.” 


54 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


When visiting Boston, in 1789, he appointed eight o’clock in the 
morning as the hour when he would set out for Salem; and, while 
the Old-South clock was striking eight, he was mounting his sad¬ 
dle. The company of cavalry which had volunteered to escort 
him, not anticipating ttiis punctuality, did not overtake him until 
he had reached Charles-River Bridge. As the troops came hurry¬ 
ing up, the President said to their commander with a good-natured 
smile, Major, I thought you had been too long in my family not to 
know when it was eight o’clock.” 

Capt. Pease had purchased a beautiful span of horses, which he 
wished to sell to the President. The President appointed five 
o’clock in the morning to examine thein at his stable. The cap¬ 
tain arrived, with his span, at quarter-past five. He was told by 
the groom that the President was there at five o’clock, but was 
then gone to attend to other engagements. The President’s time 
was wholly pre-occupied for several days; so that Capt. Pease had 
to remain a whole week in Philadelphia before he could get 
another opportunity to exhibit his span. 

Washington, having inherited a large landed estate in Virginia, 
was, as a matter of course, a slaveholder. The whole number 
which he held at the time of his death was one hundred and 
twenty-four. The system met his strong disapproval. In 1786, 
he wrote to Robert Morris, saying, “ There is no man living who 
wishes more sincerely than I do to see a plan adopted for the 
abolition of slavery.” 

Lafayette, that true friend of popular rights, was extremely 
anxious to free our country from the reproach which slavery 
brought upon it. Washington wrote to him in 1788, The 
scheme, my dear marquis, which you propose as a precedent to 
encourage the emancipation of the black people of this country 
from' the state of bondage in which they are held, is a striking 
evidence of the state of your heart. I shall be happy to join you 
in so laudable a work.” 

In his last will and testament, he inscribed these noble words: 

“ Upon the decease of my wife, it is my will and desire that all. 
the slaves which I hold in my own right shall receive their free¬ 
dom. To emancipate them during her life would, though earnestly 
wished by me, be attended with such insuperable difficulties, on 
account of their mixture by marriage with the doWer negroes, as 
to excite the most painful sensation, if not disagreeable conse- 


GEORGE WASHINGTON. 


55 


quences, from the latter, while both descriptions are in the occu¬ 
pancy of the same proprietor; it not being in my power, under the 
tenure by which the dower negroes are held, to manumit them.’’ 

Long before this, he had recorded his resolve : I,never mean, 
unless some particular circumstances should compel me to it, to 
possess another slave by purchase; it being among my first 
wishes to see some plan adopted by which slavery in this coun¬ 
try may be abolished by law.” 

Mrs. Washington' immediately after her husband’s death, learn¬ 
ing from his will that the only obstacle to the immediate emanci¬ 
pation of the slaves was her right of dower, immediately relin¬ 
quished that right, and the slaves were at once emancipated. 

The 12th of December, 1799, was chill and damp. Washington, 
however, took his usual round on horseback to his farms, and 
returned late in the afternoon, wet with sleet, and shivering with 
cold. Though the snow was clinging to his hair behind when he 
came in, he sat down to dinner without changing his dress. The 
next day, three inches of snow whitened the ground, and the sky 
was clouded. Washington, feeling that he had taken cold, re¬ 
mained by the fireside during the morning. As it cleared up in 
the afternoon, he went out to superintend some work upon the 
lawn. He was then hoarse, and the hoarseness increased as night 
came on. He, however, took no remedy for it; saying, “ I never 
take any thing to carry off a cold. Let it go as it came.” 

He passed the evening as usual, reading the papers, answering 
letters, and conversing with his family. About two o’clock the 
next morning, Saturday, the 14th, he awoke in an ague-chill, and 
was seriously unwell. At sunrise, his physician. Dr. Craig, who 
resided at Alexandria, was sent for. In tlie mean time, he was 
bled by one of his overseers, but with no relief, as he rapidly 
grew worse. Dr. Craig reached Mount Yernon at eleven o’clock, 
ard immediately bled his patient again, but without effect. Two 
consulting physicians arrived during the day; and, as the difficulty 
in breathing and swallowing rapidly increased, venesection was 
^again attempted. It is evident that Washington then considered 
his case doubtful. He examined his will, and destroyed some 
papers which he did not wish to have preserved. 

His sufferings from inflammation of the throat, and struggling 
for breath, as the afternoon wore away, became quite severe. 
Still he retained his mental faculties unimpaired, and spoke briefly 


56 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


of his approaching death and burial. About four o’clock in the 
afternoon, he said to Dr. Craig, 1 die hard; but I am not afraid 
to go. I believed, from my first attack, that I should not survive 
it: my breath cannot last long.” About six o’clock, his physician 
asked him if he would sit up in his bed. He held out his 
hands, and was raised up on his pillow, when he said, I feel that 
7 am going. I thank you for your attentions. You had better 
not take any more trouble about me, but let me go off quietly. I 
cannot last long.” 

He then sank back upon his pillow, and made several unavailing 
attempts to speak intelligibly. About ten o’clock, he said, “ I am 
just going. Have me decently buried, and do not let my body 
be put into the vault until three days after I am dead. Do you 
understand me ? ” To the reply, Yes, sir,” he remarked, “ It is 
well.” These were the last words he uttered. Soon after this, 
he gently expired, in the sixty-eighth year of his age. 

At the moment of his death, Mrs. Washington sat in silent 
grief at the foot of his bed. Is he gone ? ” she asked in a firm 
and collected voice. The physician, unable to speak, gave a 
silent signal of assent. ’Tis well,” she added in the same 
untremulous utterance. “ All is now over. I shall soon follow 
him. I have no more trials to pass through.” 

On the 18th, his remains were deposited in the tomb at Mount 
Vernon, where they now repose, enshrined in d, nation’s love; and 
his fame will forever, as now, fill the world. 


CHAPTER II. 


JOHN ADAMS. 

Ancestry of John Adams. — Anecdote of his Boyhood. — State of the Country. — Marriage. 
— British Assumptions. — Riot in Boston. — Adams’s Defence of the Soldiers. — Anec¬ 
dote. — Patriotism of Adams. — The Continental Congress. — His Influence in Congress. 
— Energy of Mrs. Adams.— The Appointment of Washington. — The Declaration of 
Independence. — Letter from Mrs. Adams. — Interview with Lord Howe. — Journey to 
Baltimore. — Delegate to France. — The Voyage. — Adams and Franklin. — The Con¬ 
trast.— Franklin and Voltaire. — Second Trip to Paris. — Successful Mission to Holland. 
— Conflict with the French Court.— Mission to England. — Presidential Career.—Last 
Days and Death. 

John Adams was born in the present town of Quincy, then a 
portion of Braintree, on the 30th of October, 1735. His father’s 
elder brother, Joseph, had been educated at Harvard, and was, 
for upwards of sixty years, minister of a Congregational church 
at Newington, N.H. The father of John Adams was a farmer 
of moderate means, a worthy, industrious man, toiling early and 
late for the very frugal support which such labor could fur¬ 
nish his family. The fact that he was a deacon of the church 
attests the esteem in which he was held by the community. Like 
most Christian fathers, he was anxious to give his son a collegiate 
education, hoping that he would become a minister of the gospel. 

But, like most boys, John Adams was not fond of his books. In 
the bright, sunny morning of his boyhood in Braintree, with the 
primeval forest waving around, the sunlight sleeping upon the 
meadows, the sparkling brooks alive with trout, and the ocean 
rolling in its grandeur before him, out-door life seemed far more 
attractive than the seclusion of the study, and the apparent mo¬ 
notony of life in the midst of books. When he was about fourteen 
years of age, his father said to him, My son, it is time for you to 
decide respecting your future occupation in life. What business 
do you wish to follow ? ” 

I wish to be a farmer,” the energetic boy replied. 

Very well,” said the judicious father: “ it is time now for you 
to commence your life-work. You must give up play, and enter 
upon that steady, hard work, without which no farmer can get a 
s 67 


58 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


living/^ The next morning, at an early hour, John was with his 
hoe alone in the field. He worked all the morning till noon; 
came home to his dinner; returned to the field ; worked all the 
afternoon till night. As he hoed, he thought. The blue sky was 
above him; but there was also a blazing, scorching sun. The 
forest waved around. He would have enjoyed wandering through 
it with his gun; but that was boy^s play which he had given up, 
not farmer’s work upon which he had entered. Work, work, 
work, was now to him life’s doom; and forest, brook, and ocean 
strangely lost their charms. 

In the evening he said to his father, with some considerable 
hesitation, ‘‘ Father, I have been thinking to-day, and have con¬ 
cluded that I should like - to try my books.” His father offered 
no objections, and was willing to make every efibrt in his power 
to indulge his son in his choice, if he were determined to devote 
all his energies to the acquisition of an education. There was a 
very good school in the town, and John laid aside his hoe for his 
grammar. He entered Harvard College at the age of sixteen, and 
graduated in 1755, highly esteemed for integrity, energy, and 
ability. He must have struggled with small means; for his father 
found it necessary to add to his labors as a farmer the occupation 
of a shoemaker, to meet the expenses of his household. When 
John graduated at twenty years of age, he was considered as 
having received his full share of the small paternal patrimony; 
and, with his education as his only capital, he went out to take his 
place in the conflicts of this stormy world. The first thing the 
young graduate needed was money. He obtained the situation 
of instructor in one of the public schools in Worcester. While 
teaching school, he also studied law. All thoughts of the minis¬ 
terial profession were soon abandoned. 

This was a period of great political excitement. France and 
England were then engaged in their great seven-years’ struggle 
for the mastery over this continent. Braddock had just suffered 
his ignoble defeat. A young Virginian by the name of George 
Washington, who had saved Braddock’s army, was then beginning 
to be known. The colonies were in great peril. The question, 
whether French or English influence was to dominate on this con¬ 
tinent, was trembling in the balance. A large number of the 
young men of the colonies were called to the camp, and the great 
theme engrossed every mind. At this time, John Adams wrote a 



JOHN ADAMS. 


59 


very remarkable letter to a friend, in which, with almost prophetic 
vision, he described the future greatness of this country, — a 
prophecy which time has more than fulfilled. 

To these engrossing themes young Adams consecrated all the 
enthusiasm of his nature. He thought, he talked, he wrote. He 
hesitated whether to give himself to law, to politics, or to the 
army. Could he have obtained a troop of horse, or a company of 
foot, he declares that he should infallibly have been a soldier. 

For two years, John Adams remained in Worcester, then a town 
of but a few hundred inhabitants, teaching a public school and 
studying law. He was a very earnest student. His journal 
proves, that, inspired by a noble ambition, he consecrated his 
time, with great moral courage and self-denial, to intellectual cul¬ 
ture. Speaking of the profligate lives of some of the young men 
around him, he writes, — 

What pleasure can a young gentleman, who is capable of 
thinking, take in playing cards ? It gratifies none of the senses. 
It can entertain the mind only by hushing its clamors. Cards, 
backgammon, &c., are the great antidotes to reflection, to think¬ 
ing. What learning and sense are we to expect from young gen¬ 
tlemen in whom a fondness for cards, &c., outgrows and chokes 
the desire of knowledge ? 

When but twenty-two years of age, he returned to hia native 
town of Braintree, and, opening a law-oflSce, devoted himself to 
study with renewed vigor. Soon after this, his father died; and he 
continued to reside with his mother and a brother, who had taken 
the farm. His native powers of mind, and untiring devotion to his 
profession, caused him to rise rapidly in public esteem. In Octo¬ 
ber, 1764, he married Miss Abigail Smith, daughter of Rev. Wil¬ 
liam Smith, pastor of the church in Weymouth. She was a lady 
of very rare endowments of person and of mind, and, by the force 
of her character, contributed not a little to her husband’s celebrity. 
The British Government was now commencing that career of 
aggressions upon the rights of the colonists which aroused the 
most determined resistance, and which led to that cruel war 
which resulted in the independence of the colonies. An order was 
issped by the British crown, imposing taxes upon certain goods, 
and authorizing an indiscriminate search to find goods which 
might have evaded the tax. The legality of the law was con¬ 
tested before the Superior Court. James Otis was engaged by 


60 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


the merchants to argue their cause against this encroachment ot 
arbitrary power. With consummate ability he performed his task. 
John Adams was a delighted listener. 

Otis/^ he wrote, “ was a flame of fire. With a promptitude of 
classical allusion, a depth of research, a rapid summary of his¬ 
torical events and dates, a profusion of legal authorities, and a 
prophetic glance of his eyes into futurity, he hurried away all 
before him. American independence was then and there horn. 
Every man of an immensely crowded audience appeared to me to 
go away, as I did, ready to take up arms.^^ 

A literary club was about this time formed of prominent gen¬ 
tlemen of the bar, which met once a week in a small social circle, 
at each other^s houses, to discuss subjects of popular interest. 
Mr. Adams read an essay upon the state of aftairs, which was 
published in the journals, republished in England, and which 
attracted great attention. The friends of the colonists in England 
pronounced it one of the very best productions ever seen from 
North America.” 

The memouable Stamp Act was now issued; and Adams, gather¬ 
ing up his strength to resist these encroachments, entered with 
all the ardor of his soul into political life. He drew up a series 
of resolutions, remonstrating against the Stamp Act, which were 
adopted at a public meeting of the citizens at Braintree, and 
which were subsequently adopted, word for word, by more than 
forty towns in the State. Popular commotion prevented the land¬ 
ing of the Stamp-Act papers. This stopped all legal processes, 
and closed the courts. The town of Boston sent a petition to the 
governor that the courts might be re-opened. Jeremy Gridley, 
James Otis, and John Adams, were chosen to argue the cause of 
the petitioners before the governor and council. Mr. Gridley 
urged upon the council the great distress which the closing of 
the courts was causing. Mr. Otis argued that this distress fully 
warranted them to open the courts, while the question was being 
referred to the authorities beyond the sea; but John Adams 
boldly took the ground that the Stamp Act was an assumption of 
arbitrary power, violating both the English Constitution and the 
charter of the province. It is said that this was the first direct 
denial of the unlimited right of parliament over the colonies. 

Soon after this, the Stamp Act was repealed. Mr. Adams now 
entered upon a distinguished political career. A press-gang from 


JOHN ADAM^. 


61 


a king's ship in the harbor of Boston seized a young American 
by the name of Ansell Nickerson. The intrepid sailor thrust a 
harpoon through the heart of Lieut. Panton, the leader of the 
gang. He was tried for murder. John Adams defended him. 
He argued that the usage of impressment had liever extended to 
the colonies; that the attempt to impress Nickerson was unlaw¬ 
ful; that his act of killing his assailant was justifiable homicide. 
The hero was acquitted, and the principle was established, that 
the infamous royal prerogative of impressment could have no ex¬ 
istence in the code of colonial law. 

To suppress the spirit of independence, daily becoming more 
manifest among the people, the British crown sent two regiments 
of soldiers to Boston. A more obnoxious menace could not have 
been devised. The populace insulted the soldiers: the soldiers 
retaliated with insolence and threats. 

On the 5th of March, 1770, a small party of soldiers, thus 
assailed, fired upon the crowd in State Street, Boston, killing and 
wounding several. Mutual exasperation was now roused almost 
to frenzy. The lieutenant and six soldiers were arrested, and 
.tried for murder. Very nobly, and with moral courage rarely 
equalled, John Adams and Josiah Quincy undertook the task of 
their defence. They encountered unmeasured obloquy. They 
were stigmatized as deserters from the cause of popular liberty, 
and the bribed advocates of tyranny. But both of these ardent 
patriots had witnessed with alarm the rise of mob violence, and 
they felt deeply that there was no tyranny so dreadful as that of 
anarchy. Better it was, a thousand-fold, to be under the domina¬ 
tion of the worst of England’s kings than that of a lawless mob. 

An immense and excited auditory was present at the trial. The 
first sentence with which John Adams opened his defence pn> 
duced an electrical effect upon the court and the crowd. It was 
as follows: — 

May it please your honors, and you, gentlemen of the jury, I 
am for the prisoners at the bar, and shall apologize for it only in 
the words of the Marquis Beccaria: 'If I can be the instrument 
of preserving one life, his blessing, and tears of transport, shall be 
a sufficient consolation to me for the contempt of all mankind.’ ” 

Capt. Preston and the soldiers were acquitted, excepting two, 
who were found guilty of manslaughter, and received a very slight 
punishment. Though Boston instituted an annual commemoration 


62 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


of the massacre, Mr. Adamses popularity suffered so little, that he 
was elected by the citizens of Boston, to which place he had re¬ 
moved, as one of their representatives to the Colonial Legislature. 
Gov. Hutchinson, though a native of the province, was a man of 
great energy and 'of insatiable ambition. Anxious to secure the 
royal favor, upon which he was dependent for his office, he gave 
all his influence in favor of the demands of the crown. In all 
these measures, John Adams was recognized as one of his most 
formidable antagonists. In 1772, Mr. Adams, finding his health 
failing from his incessant application to business, returned to his 
more secluded home at Braintree. 

The energetic remonstrances of the colonists against taxation 
without representation, and their determination not to submit to 
the wrong, had induced the repeal of the tax upon all articles 
except tea. This led to organizations all over the land to abandon 
the use of tea. Large shipments were made to Boston. The con¬ 
signees endeavored to send it back. The crown-officers in the 
custom-house refused a clearance. On the evening of the I5th of 
December, a band of men, disguised as Indians, boarded the ves¬ 
sels, hoisted the chests upon the deck, and emptied their contents 
into the sea. 

Under the circumstances, this was a deed of sublime daring, 
being the first open act of rebellion. The crown, exasperated, 
punished Boston by sending armed ships to close the port. This 
was a deadly blow to the heroic little town. The other colonies 
sympathized nobly with Massachusetts. Combinations were 
formed to refuse all importations from Great Britain. A General 
Congress was convened in Philadelphia, 1774, to make common 
cause against the powerful foe. John Adams was one of the five 
delegates sent from Massachusetts to the Continental Congress. 
He was entreated by a friend, the king’s attorney-general, not 
to accept his appointment as a delegate to the Congress. “ Great 
Britain,” said the attorney-general, “ has determined on her sys¬ 
tem. Her power is irresistible, and will be destructive to you, 
and to all those who shall persevere in opposition to her de¬ 
signs.” 

The heroic reply of John Adams was, I know that Great Brit¬ 
ain has determined on her. system; and that very determination 
determines me on mine. You know that I have been constant and 
uniform in my opposition to her measures. The die is now cast. 


JOHN ADAMS. 


63 


I have passed the Rubicon. Sink or swim, live or die, survive or 
perish, with my country, is my fixed, unalterable determination.” 

Few comprehended more fully than Mr. Adams the sublimity 
of the crisis which was impending. He wrote at this tiilie in his 
journal, — 

“ I wander alone, and ponder; I muse, 1 mope, I ruminate; I am 
often in reveries and brown studies. The objects before me are 
too grand and multifarious for my comprehension. We have not 
men fit for the times. We are deficient in genius, in education, 
in travel, in fortune, in every thipg. I feel unutterable anxiet 3 ^ 
God grant us wisdom and fortitude! Should the opposition be 
suppressed, should this country submit, what infamy and ruin! 
God forbid! Death, in any form, is less terrible.” 

He was not blind to the danger of incurring the vengeance of 
the British Government. He wrote to James Warren, “ There is 
one ugly reflection. Brutus and Cassius were conquered and 
slain. Hampden died in the field; Sidne^q on the scaflbld.” 

Mr. Adams was strongly attached to his friend Mr. Sewall, who 
remonstrated with him against his patriotic course, and who was 
disposed to espouse the cause of the king. On bidding him adieu, 
Mr. Adams said, “ I see we must part; and with a bleeding heart 
I say, I fear forever: but j^ou may depend upon it, this adieu 
is the sharpest thorn upon which I ever set my foot.” 

The Colonial Congress commenced its session at Philadelphia the 
5th of September, 1774, when Mr. Adams took his seat. He was 
speedily placed on several of the most important committees. 
The general* desire then was merely for a redress of grievances. 
Very few wished to break away from the British crown. George 
Washington was one of the Virginia delegation. He doubted 
whether the British cabinet, in its arrogance, would relinquish its 
insane attempt to deprive the colonists of their liberties; but 
Richard Henry Lee, another of the Virginia delegation, said to 
Mr. Adams,— 

“ We shall infallibly carry all our points. You will be completcl}^ 
relieved. All the oflensive acts Avill be repealed. The army and 
fleet will be recalled, and England will give up her foolish project.” 

Much as Mr. Adams might have desired this to be true, his 
sagacity led him to concur in the judgment of George Washington. 
This Congress, by its ability and heroism, rendered its memory 
immortal. Lord Chatham said,— 


64 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


I have studied and* admired the free States of antiquity, the 
master-spirits of the world j but for solidity of reason, force of 
sagacity, and wisdom of conclusion, no body of men can take the 
precedence of this Continental Congress/’ 

At'this time, the idea of independence was extremely unpopu¬ 
lar in Pennsylvania and in all the Middle States. Virginia was the 
most populous State in the Union; and its representatives, proud 
of the ancient dominion, not without a show of reason, deemed it 
their right to take the lead in all important measures. A Virginian 
was appointed commander-in-chief. A Virginian wrote the Decla¬ 
ration of Independence; a Virginian moved its adoption by Con¬ 
gress. Mr. Adams says of the Massachusetts delegation,— 

“ We were all suspected of having independence in view. 
*Now,’ said they, ^you must not utter the word ‘independence,” 
nor give the least hint or insinuation of the idea, either in Con¬ 
gress or in private conversation : if you do, we are undone.’ ” 

It was soon rumored throughout Philadelphia that John Adams 
was for independence. The Quakers and the gentlemen of prop¬ 
erty took the alarm. Adams “was sent to Coventry,” and was 
avoided like a leper. With a saddened yet imperial spirit, borne 
down, yet not crushed, by the weight of his anxieties and unpop¬ 
ularity, almost in solitude, for a time he walked the streets of 
Philadelphia. It would have been well for him could he have 
blended a little more of the suaviter in modo with the fortiler in re. 
The British crown, with utter infatuation, pursued its reckless 
course. In April, 1775, the war of the Be volution was opened, as 
brave men were shot down by English soldiery upon the green at 
Lexington. Boston was placed under martial law. All its citizens 
were imprisoned within the lines of the British fleet and army 
which encompassed the city. The inhabitants were plunged into 
the deepest distress. On the 10th day of May, the Congress again 
assembled in Philadelphia. Mrs. Adams kept her husband minutely 
informed of all the events occurring in Boston and its vicinity. 
About the middle of May, one sabbath morning, Mrs. Adams was 
roused from sleep by the ringing of alarm-bells, the flring of can¬ 
non, and the beating of drums. She immediately sent a courier to 
Boston, and found every thing in great confusion. Three vessels 
of war had left the harbor, manifestly on some hostile mission, and 
were sailing along the shores of Massachusetts Bay, approaching 
Braintree or Weymouth. Men, women, and children were flying 


JOHN ADAMS. 


65 



The battle of Bunker’s Hill was fought on the 17th of June, 
1775. The next afternoon, which was Sunday, Mrs. Adams wrote 
to her husband,— 


in all directions. The sick were placed in beds on carts, and hur¬ 
ried to a place of safety. The report was, that three hundred 
soldiers had landed, and were marching up into the town of Brain¬ 
tree. Men seized their guns, and came flocking from their farms, 
until two thousand were collected. 

It soon turned out that the hostile expedition had landed on 
Grape Island to seize a large quantity of hay which was stored there. 
The impetuous colonists soon mustered two vessels, jumped on 
board, and put off for the island. The British, seeing them com¬ 
ing, decamped. Our men landed, and set fire to the hay, about 
eighty tons. Mrs. Adams, in giving an account of this, writes, — 

Our house has been, upon this alarm, in the same scene of con¬ 
fusion that it was upon the former; soldiers coming in for lodging, 
for breakfast, for supper, for drink. Sometimes refugees from 
Boston, tired and fatigued, seek an asylum for a day, a night, a 
week. You can hardly imagine how we live. 


RESIDENCE OF JOHN ADAMS. 


9 








66 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


“ The day, perhaps the decisive day, is come, on which the fate 
of America depends. My bursting heart must find vent at my 
pen. I have just heard that our dear friend Dr. Warren is no 
more, but fell gloriously fighting for his country; saying, ^ Better 
to die honorably in the field than ignominiously hang upon the 
gallows.^ 

Charlestown is laid in ashes. The battle began upon our in- 
trenchments upon Bunker’s Hill, Saturday morning, about three 
o’clock, and has not ceased yet; and it is now three o’clock, sab¬ 
bath afternoon. The constant roar of the cannon is so distress¬ 
ing, that we cannot either eat, drink, or sleep.” 

These scenes had aroused the country around Boston to the 
very highest pitch of excitement. The farmers had come rushing 
in from all the adjoining towns with rifles, shot-guns, pitch-forks, 
and any other weapons of offence or defence which they could 
grasp. Thus a motley mass of heroic men, without efficient arms, 
supplies, powder, or discipline, amounting to some fourteen thou¬ 
sand, were surrounding Boston, which was held by about eight 
thousand British regulars, supported by a powerful fleet. 

The first thing now to be done by Congress was to choose a 
commander-in-chief for this army. The New-England delegation 
were almost unanimous in favor of Gen. Ward, then at the head 
of the army in Massachusetts. Mr. Adams alone dissented, and 
urged the appointment of George Washington, a delegate from 
Virginia, but little known out of his own State. Through the 
powerful influence of John Adams, Washington was nominated 
and elected. He was chosen without an opposing voice-. A pow¬ 
erful fleet, said to contain twenty-eight thousand seamen and fifty- 
five thousand land troops, was now crossing the ocean for our 
enslavement. It would seem impossible, to human vision, that 
such a force could then bo resisted. Our destruction seemed 
sure. Goliah was striding down upon David, and all onlookers 
expected to see the stripling tossed upon the giant’s spear high 
into the air. 

Washington hastened to Massachusetts to take command of the 
army. Five days after his appointment, Thomas Jelferson made 
liis appearance upon the floor of Congress. A strong friend¬ 
ship immediately sprang up between Adams and Jefferson, 
which, with a short interruption, continued for the remainder 
of their lives. After a brief adjournment. Congress met again 


JOHN ADAMS. 


67 


in September. The battle was still raging about Boston; and 
the British, with free ingress and egress by their fleet, were 
plundering and burning, and committing every kind of atrocity in 
all directions. John Adams presented and carried the decisive 
resolution, that, in view of the aggressions and demands of Eng¬ 
land, it is necessary that the exercise of every kind of author¬ 
ity under said crown should be totally suppressed.” Having thus 
prepared the \^ay, a few weeks after, on the 7th of June, 1776, 
Richard Henry Lee of Virginia offered the memorable resolution, 
which John Adams seconded,— 

That these United States are, and of right ought to be, free 
and independent.” 

A committee was then appointed to draught a Declaration of 
Independence. It consisted of Jefferson, Adams, Franklin, Sher¬ 
man, and Livingston. Jefferson and Adams were appointed, by 
the rest, a sub-committee to draw up the Declaration. At Mr. 
Adams’s earnest request, Mr. Jefferson prepared that immortal 
document, which embodies the fundamental principles of all 
human rights. At this time, Mr. Adams wrote to a friend, — 

^^I am engaged in constant business, — from seven to ten in the 
morning in committee, from ten to flve in Congress, and from six 
to ten again in committee. Our assembly is scarcely numerous 
enough for the business. Everybody is engaged all day in Con¬ 
gress, and all the morning and evening in committees.” 

Jefferson wrote of his illustrious colleague, The great pillar 
of support to the Declaration of Independence, and its ablest ad¬ 
vocate and champion on the floor of the house, was John Adams. 
He was our Colossus. Not graceful, not always fluent, he yet 
came out with a power, both of thought and expression, which 
moved us from our seats.” 

Mr. Jefferson, though so able with his pen, had little skill in 
debate, and was no public speaker. That which he wrote in the 
silence of his closet, John Adams defended in the stormy hall of 
Congress. When Adams and Jefferson met to draw up the Decla* 
ration of Independence, each urged the other to make the draught. 
Mr. Adams closed the friendly contention by saying, — 

“ I will not do it: you must. There are three good reasons 
why you should. First, you are a Virginian; and Virginia should 
take the lead in this business. Second, I am obnoxious, suspected, 
unpopular: you are the reverse. Third, you can write ten times 


68 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


better than I can/’—^^Well,” Jeflferson replied, you insist 
upon it, I will do as well as I can.” 

On the 4th of July, 1776, the Declaration of Independence was 
adopted by Congress, and signed by each of its members. This 
was one of the boldest acts in the records of time. Every man 
W'ho affixed his signature to that paper thus cast the glove of 
mortal defiance at the foot of the most majestic power on this 
globe. The scene was one upon which the genius of both pen 
and pencil has been lavished. In its grandeur it stands forth as 
one of the most sublime of earthly acts. Of the fifty-five who 
signed that declaration, there was not probably one who would 
deny that 'its most earnest advocate, and its most eloquent de¬ 
fender, was John Adams. 

The day after the achievement of this momentous event, Mr. 
Adams wrote to his wife as follows: — . 

Yesterday, the greatest question was decided that was ever 
debated in America; and greater, perhaps, never was or will be 
decided among men. A resolution was passed, without one dis¬ 
senting colony, ^ That these United States are, and of right ought 
to be, free and independent States.’ The day is passed. The 
4th of July, 1776, will be a memorable epoch in the history of 
America. I am apt to believe it will be celebrated by succeeding 
generations as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be 
commemorated, as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devo¬ 
tion to Almighty God. It ought to be solemnized with pomps, 
shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from 
one end of the continent to the other, from this time forward for¬ 
ever. You will think me transported with enthusiasm; but I am 
not. I am well aware of the toil and blood and treasure that it 
will cost to maintain this Declaration, and support and defend 
these States; yet, through all the gloom, I can see that the end 
is worth more than all the means, and that posterity will triumph, 
though you and I may rue, which I hope we shall not.” 

A few weeks before this, early in March, Washington had taken 
possession of Dorchester Heights, and had driven the British out 
of Boston. Mrs. Adams, in a letter to her husband, under date of 
March 4, writes, — 

I have just returned from Penn’s Hill, where I have been sit¬ 
ting to hear the amazing roar of cannon, and from whence I could 
see every shell that was thrown. The sound, I think, is one of the 


JOHN ADAMS. 


69 


grandest in nature, and is of the true specids of the sublime.’^ 
The next morning, she adds to her letter, “ I went to bed about 
twelve, and rose again a little after one. I could no more sleep 
than if I had been in the engagement: the rattling of the win¬ 
dows, the jar of the house, the continual roar of twenty-four 
pounders, and the bursting of shells, give us such ideas, and 
realize a scene to us of which we could form scarcely any concep¬ 
tion. I hear we got possession of Dorchester Hill last night; four 
thousand men upon it to-day: lost but one man. The ships are all 
drawn round the town. To-night we shall realize a more terrible 
scene still. I sometimes think I cannot stand it. I wish myself 
with you out of hearing, as* I cannot assist them.^' 

In August, a British army, landing from their fleet, under Lord 
Howe, overran Long Island, defeating the American army, which 
only escaped destruction by retreating in a dark and foggy night 
to the main land. Howe imagined that the discouragement of this 
defeat would induce the Americans to listen to terms of submis¬ 
sion. He therefore requested an interview with some of the lead¬ 
ing members of Congress. John Adams was not in favor of the 
conference. He was well assured that England would present no 
terms to which America could accede. A committee, however, 
was appointed to treat with the British general, consisting of 
Adams, Franklin, and Rutledge. 

On Monday, Sept. 9, 1776, the delegates set out to meet Gen. 
Howe on Staten Island. Franklin and Rutledge to>^k chairs, — a 
vehicle for but one person. Mr. Adams rode on hoiseback. The 
first night, they lodged at an inn in New Brunswick, which was 
so crowded, that Franklin and Adams had to take one bed in a 
chamber but little larger than the bed, with no chimney, and but 
one window. The window was open; and Mr. Adams, who was 
quite an invalid, wished to shut it. Oh I said Franklin, don’t 
shut the window: we shall be sufibcated.” Mr. Adams replied, 
that he was afraid of the evening air. Dr. Franklin answered, 
'^The air within this chamber will soon be, and indeed is now, 
worse than that without doors. Come, open the window, and 
come to bed, and I will convince you.” Mr. Adams opened the 
window, and leaped into bed. He writes, — 

The doctor then began an harangue upon air and cold, and 
respiration and perspiration, with which I was so much amused, 
tliat I soon fell asleep, and left him and his philosophy together: 


70 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


but T believe that they were equally sound and insensible within 
a few minutes after me*; for the last words I heard were pro* 
nounced as if he were more than half asleep. I remember little 
of the lecture, except that the human body, by respiration and 
perspiration, destroys a gallon of air in a minute ; that two such 
persons as were now in that chamber would consume all the air 
in it in an hour or two; that, in breathing over and over again the 
matter thrown off by the lungs and the skin, we should imbibe 
the real cause of colds, not from abroad, but from within.’^ 

The next morning, they proceeded on their journey. When 
they came to the water’s edge, they met an officer whom Gen. 
Howe had sent as a hostage for their safe return. Mr. Adams 
said to Mr. Franklin, “ that it would be childish to depend on such 
a pledge, and that he preferred to trust entirely to the honor of 
Gen. Howe. They therefore took the officer back to Staten 
Island with them in his lordship’s barge. As they approached 
the shore. Lord Howe came down upon the beach to meet them. 
Seeing the officer in their company, he said-,— 

“ Gentlemen, you pay me a high compliment, and you may de¬ 
pend upon it that I will consider it the most sacred of things.” 

They walked up to the house between a line of guards, who 
manoeuvred and handled their muskets in the most approved 
style of military etiquette. The house, which was dirty as a 
stable,” was carpeted with a sprinkling of moss and green sprigs, 
so that it looked picturesquely beautiful. After a slight, cold re¬ 
past, they entered upon business. Lord Howe remarked that his 
powers enabled him to confer with any private gentlemen of in¬ 
fluence in the colonies, and that he could only confer with them in 
that character. John Adams, with his characteristic straightfor¬ 
ward bluntness, replied, 

“We came, sir, but to listen to your propositions. You may 
view us in any light you please, except that of British subjects-. 
We shall consider ourselves in no other character than that in 
which we were placed by order of Congress.” 

His lordship, who had only permission to offer pardon to the 
leaders of the Revolution, with a few exceptions, if the States 
would return to their allegiance to the king, anxious to conciliate 
the delegation, was profuse in expressions of gratitude to the 
State of Massachusetts for erecting in Westminster Abbey a mon¬ 
ument to his brother Lord Howe, who was killed in the French 


JOim ADAMS. 


71 


war. He said that his affection for America was, on that account, 
so strong, that he felt for America as for a brother; and that, if 
America should fall, he should lament it like the loss of a brother. 
Dr. Franklin, with an easy air, bowed and smiled, and replied, with 
all that grace and suavity which marked him as one of the most 
accomplished of diplomatists, — 

My lord, we will do our utmost endeavors to save your lord- 
ship that mortification.^' 

Mr. Adams, in his account of the interview, remarks that his 
lordship appeared to feel this with much sensibility. But with 
Mr. Adams’s remark, to which we have referred, he was evidently 
not a little nettled; for, turning to Dr. Franklin and Mr. Rutledge, 
he said, with much gravity and solemnity, “ Mr. Adams is a 
decided character.” 

This was the darkest period of the conflict. Our affliirs looked 
so gloomy, that even the most sanguine were disheartened. Many 
were exceedingly dissatisfied with that prudence of Gen. Wash¬ 
ington which alone saved us from destruction. Many were 
anxious to displace him. It has been said that Mr. Adams was 
one of this number. He denies it peremptorily. 

The advance of the enemy towards Philadelphia had rendered 
it necessary for Congress to adjourn to Baltimore. It was in those 
days a long and tedious journey from Boston to that far-away 
country,” as Mrs. Adams called it. Mr. Adams, in his journal, 
gives an account of a horseback-ride which he took in January, 
1777, from Boston, to attend a session of Congress in that distant 
city. 

He rode across the State of Connecticut to Fishkill, on the Hud¬ 
son, and ascended the banks of the river to Poughkeepsie, where 
he was able to cross upon the ice. He then rode down the west¬ 
ern banks to New Windsor, five miles below Newburg. Then he 
struck across the country to Easton in Pennsylvania. He passed 
through Sussex County in New Jersey, the stronghold of the 
Tories, but encountered no insult, as the firm attitude of the 
patriots overawed them. It took him three weeks of excessive 
fatigue to accomplish this journey. One can now go to California 
in about the same time, and with far less discomfort. Alluding to 
the weary ride, he writes, “ The weather has been sometimes bit¬ 
terly cold, sometimes warm, sometimes rainy, and sometimes 


72 


LIVES OF TEE PRESIDENTS. 


snowy, and the roads abominably hard and rough; so that this 
journey has been the most tedious I ever attempted.’^ 

The number of members assembled in Congress had become 
quite small, often falling as low as twenty-three. The labors of 
these men have never been properly appreciated. Their peril 
was about as great as that of those who met the foe in the field, 
and their toils scarcely less severe. The imperfections of the 
Old Confederation were very palpable to the sagacious mind of 
John Adams. Mr. Marchant, one of the delegates, relates the fol¬ 
lowing characteristic anecdote: — 

The articles of confederation being completed, the members, 
by rotation, were called upon to place their signatures to them. 
This being concluded, a pause and perfect calm succeeded. Mr. 
Adams sat and appeared full of thought. He rose: ^ Mr. Presi¬ 
dent.^ His cane slipped through his thumb and forefinger, with a 
quick tap upon the-fioor; his eyes rolled upwards; his brows were 
raised to their full arch. ^ This business, sir, that has taken up so 
much of our time, seems to be finished; but, sir, I now, upon this 
floor, venture to predict, that, before ten years, the Confederation, 
like a rope of sand, will be found inadequate to the purpose, and 
its dissolution will take place. Heaven grant that wisdom and 
experience may avert what we then have most to fear! ^ 

The Confederacy proved, as Mr. Adams predicted, a failure. It 
was a mere league of States, each reserving all effective powers 
to itself, and conferring upon Congress but the shadow of sov¬ 
ereignty. 

Dr. Gordon gives the following testimony to Mr. Adams’s influ¬ 
ence: never can think we shall finally fail of success while 

Heaven continues to the Congress the life and abilities of Mr. John 
Adams. He is equal to the controversy in all its stages. He 
stood upon the shoulders of the whole Congress when reconcilia¬ 
tion was the wish of all America. He was equally conspicuous in 
cutting the knot which tied us to Great Britain. In a word, I 
deliver to you the opinion of every man in the house when I add, 
that he possesses the clearest head and firmest heart of any man 
in Congress.” 

The energy with which he was inspired and the confidence re¬ 
posed in him may be inferred from the fact, that he was a member 
of ninety committees, and chairman of twenty-five. Until Novem¬ 
ber, 1777, Mr. Adams was assiduous in his attendance upon Con- 


JOHN ADAMS. 


73 


gress, devoting, himself with tireless diligence to his public 
duties. 

In November, 1777, Mr. Adams was appointed a delegate to 
France, to take the place of Silas Deane, who had been recalled, 
and to co-operate with Benjamin Franklin and Arthur Lee, who 
were then in Paris, in the endeavor to obtain assistance in arms 
and money from the French Government. This was a severe trial 
to his patriotism, as it separated him from his home, compelled 
him to cross the ocean in winter, and exposed him to imminent 
peril of capture by the British cruisers. Anxiously he pondered 
the question. He was a man of ardent affections; and it w,as hard 
to be separated from his family, consisting of a wife and four chil¬ 
dren. The news of his appointment was known by the British, 
and they had a large fleet in Newport, R. I., which would undoubt¬ 
edly be employed to intercept him. Capture would lodge him in 
Newgate. He would be tried in England for treason, and Mr. 
Adams had no doubt that they would proceed to execute him. 
But, on the other hand, our country was in extremest peril. It 
was clear, that, without the aid of some friendly European power, 
our feeble armies must be crushed. France was the only nation 
from which there was the slightest hope that aid could be obtained. 
Mr. Adams had done perhaps more than any other man to induce 
the colonies to declare their independence. As was to be ex¬ 
pected of the man, he adopted the heroic resolve to run all the 
risks. 

“ My wife,-’ he writes, who had always encouraged and ani¬ 
mated me in all the antecedent dangers and perplexities, did not fail 
me on this occasion. After much agitation of mind, and a thousand 
reverses unnecessary to be detailed, I resolved to devote my 
family and my life to the cause, accepted the appointment, and 
made preparation for the voyage. 

It was several months before a frigate could be got ready. On 
a cold day in February, 1778, a wintry wind roughening Massa¬ 
chusetts Bay, Mr. Adams took a sad leave of his wife and three 
children, and accompanied by his son John Quincy, then a lad of 
but ten years of age, was rowed out to the frigate “ Boston,^^ rid¬ 
ing at anchor at some distance from the shore. The voyage was 
stormy, uncomfortable, and eventful. When five days out, on the 
15th of February, three large English frigates were seen, probably 
cruising for the Boston.^^ They gave chase. Two of them were 
10 


74 


LIVES OF TEE PRESIDENTS. 


soon run out of sight. The third, a better sailer, continued the 
pursuit. Arrangements were made for a desperate fight. Mr. 
Adams urged them to contend to the last extremity. 

“ My motives,’’ he writes, “ were more urgent than theirs; for 
it will be easily believed that it would have been more eligible for 
me to be killed on board the ‘ Boston,’ or sunk to the bottom in 
her, than to be taken prisoner.” 

Mr. Adams sat at the cabin-windows, watching the frowning 
enemy gaining very rapidly upon them, when suddenly the black 
clouds of a rising tempest gathered in the skies. The wind rose 
to a gale. The clouds hastened the approach of the darkness of 
the night, in which the ships lost sight of each other; and, when 
the morning dawned, the British frigate was nowhere to be seen, 
while the ocean was tossed by a hurricane. 

On the 14th of March, another sail hove in sight. Trusting that 
it might prove a prize which they would be able to take, they 
gave chase; and it was soon overtaken and captured. Mr. Sprague, 
in his Eulogy of Adams and Jefferson, relates the following anec¬ 
dote of this engagement. Capt. Tucker begged Mr. Adams to 
retire to a place of safety below. Soon after, as the balls of the 
hostile ship were flying over their heads, Capt. Tucker saw Mr. 
Adams on deck with a musket in his hand, fighting as a common 
marine. In the excitement of the moment, he rushed up to his 
illustrious passenger, exclaiming, Why are you here, sir?. I am 
commanded to carry you safely to Europe, and I will do it; ” and, 
seizing him in his arms, he forcibly carried him from the scene of 
danger. 

They took the prize, and a prize indeed it was. It proved to be 
a letter of marque, the “ Martha,” Capt. McIntosh, of fourteen guns, 
with a cargo insured in London for seventy-two thousand pounds. 
The captured vessel was sent to Boston. Capt. McIntosh, who was 
kept on board the “ Boston,” was a very intelligent, gentlemanly 
man, and held much friendly conversation with Mr. Adams. On 
the evening of the 15th of March, as they were approaching the 
French coast, Mr. Adams was sitting in the cabin, when Capt. 
McIntosh came down, and, addressing him with great solemnity, 
said, — 

“ Mr. Adams, this ship will be captured by my countr^^men in 
less than half an hour. Two large British men-of-war are bearing 
directly down upon us, and are just by. You will hear from them, I 


JOHN ADAMS. 


75 


warrant you, in six minutes. Let me take the liberty to say to you, 
that I feel for you more than for any one else. I have always liked 
you since I came on board, and have always ascribed to you the 
good treatment which I have received. You may depend upon 
it, all the good service I can render you with my countrymen 
shall be done with pleasure.” 

This ^yas, indeed, startling intelligence. Mr. Adams, who had 
heard an uncommon trampling upon deck, only responded with a 
silent bow, and, taking his hat, ascended the cabin-stairs. It was 
a bright moonlight evening, and there were the two ships already 
within musket-shot. They could see every thing,—even the men 
on board. All expected every moment to be hailed, or perhaps to 
be saluted with a broadside. But the two ships passed without 
speaking a word. ‘‘ I stood upon deck,” writes Mr. Adams, till 
they had got sa far off as to remove all apprehension of danger 
from them. Whether they were two American frigates, which 
had been about that time in France, we never knew. We had no 
inclination to. inquire about their business or destination, and were 
very happy that they discovered so little curiosity about ours.” 

On the morning of March 30, they made Bordeaux Lighthouse, 
and ran safely into the river. Mr. Adams was charmed with the 
appearance of La Belle France. The sight of land, cattle, villages, 
farm-houses, women and children, after so long and dreary a yoy- 
age, gave indescribable pleasure. There was a French ship in 
the stream; and Mr. Adams and his son were invited to a very 
elegant entertainment, served up in style, to which they had been 
quite unaccustomed in their frugal provincial home. They there 
learned that Dr. Franklin, who had been received by Louis XVI. 
with great pomp, and who, from his courtesy of manners, affability, 
and aptness in paying compliments, was admirably adapted to im¬ 
press the French mind, had already succeeded in concluding a 
treaty with France. 

Indeed, it is probably fortunate that Mr. Adams did not arrive 
any sooner. He was not at all at home in French diplomacy. 
While Franklin was greatly admired and caressed, Mr. Adams was 
decidedly unpopular in the Parisian court. His virtues and his 
defects were those of a blunt, straightforward, unpolished Eng¬ 
lishman. In Paris he met with David Hartley, a member of the 
British House of Commons. They came together like two ice¬ 
bergs, Mr. Hartley, on his return to London, said to Sir John 


76 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


Temple and others, “ Your Mr. Adams, that you represent as a 
man of such good sense, — he may have that; but he is the most 
ungracious man I ever saw.^’ 

Mr. Adams’s first interview with the President of the Parlia¬ 
ment of Bordeaux was alike characteristic of the affable French¬ 
man and the bluff Yankee. The premier received him not only 
i‘es])ectfully and politely, but with affection which was even 
tender. 

“ [ am charmed,” said he, to see you. I have long felt for 
you a brother’s love. I have trembled for you in the great perils 
through which you have passed. You have encountered many 
dangers and sufferings in the cause of liberty; and I have sympa¬ 
thized with you in them all, for I have suffered in that cause 
myself.” 

All this was in accordance with national courtesy, arid was as 
sincere as are the usual salutations of social life. It was, by no 
means, hypocrisy: it was only politeness. Dr. Franklin would 
have responded in a similar strain; and the two friends would 
have separated, charmed with each other. We learn how Mr. 
Adams received these cordial advances by the following ungra¬ 
cious entry in his journal: — 

‘‘ Mr. Bondfield had to interpret all this effusion of compliments. 
I thought it never would come to an end; but it did: and I con¬ 
cluded, upon the whole, there was a form of sincerity in it, deco¬ 
rated, and almost suffocated, with French compliments.” 

Mr. Adams, and his little son John Quincy, reached Paris on the 
8th of April, after land-travel of five hundred miles. As the am¬ 
bassador of the infant colonies, struggling for independence, Mr. 
Adams was received by both court and people with the utmost 
kindness. In his journal he records, The attention to me which 
has been shown, from my first landing in France, by the people in 
authority, of all ranks and by the principal merchants, and, since 
my arrival in Paris, by the ministers of state, and others of the 
first consideration, has been very remarkable.” 

Mr. Adams could not speak French, which was almost a fatal 
obstacle to his-success as a courtier. He says that Dr. Franklin 
could not speak it grammatically ; but, at all events. Dr. Franklin 
succeeded in speaking it so well as to charm all with whom he 
conversed, and his polite auditors averred that his pronunciation 
was truly Parisian. He was an exceedingly gallant old gentle- 


JOHN ADAMS. 


77 


man of seventy, possessed of extraordinary tact in paying com* 
pliments. 

In a sketch of his colleagues, Mr. Adams writes of Di. Frank¬ 
lin,— 

That he was a great genius, a great wit, a great humorist, a 
great satirist, a great politician, is certain. That he was a great 
philosopher, a great moralist, a great statesman, is more question¬ 
able.” On the other hand. Dr. Franklin writes of his colleague, 

Mr. Adams is always an honest man, often a wise one; but he is 
sometimes completely out of his senses.” 

Mr. Adams was an earnest, methodical, business man. He was 
disgusted at the loose way in which he found business conducted 
by his colleagues. There was not a minute-book, letter-book, or 
account-book, to be produced. He undertook a vigorous reform, 
bought some blank books, declined invitations to dine, and bowed 
down to the hard work of acquiring the French language. He 
became unduly suspicious of the designs of France. One day, he 
was crossing the court of the palace of Versailles with his col¬ 
league, Mr. Lee, and the Count de Vergennes. They passed, and 
exchanged bows with, the distinguished general. Marshal Maille- 
bois. That is a great general,” said Mr. Lee. “ I wish,” re¬ 
sponded the count, “ that he had the command with you.” This 
was a very natural remark, when we had then no generals of dis¬ 
tinction in our country, and when even many of our own most 
devoted patriots were distrusting Washington. Mr. Adams thus 
comments on these words: — 

^'This escape was, in my mind, a confirmation strong of the 
design at court of getting the whole command of America into 
their own hands. My feelings on this occasion were kept to my¬ 
self; but my reflection was, “ 1 will be buried in the ocean, or in 
any other manner sacrificed, before I will voluntarily put on the 
chains of France, when 1 am struggling to throw off those of 
Great Britain.” 

Mr. Adamses earnest patriotism induced him to practise the 
most rigid economy while abroad, that Congress might be put to 
as little expense as possible. The treaty of alliance with France 
was already formed before his arrival; and, soon finding that there 
was but little for him to do in Paris, he resolved that he had 
rather run the gantlet through all the British men-of-war, and all 
the storms of the ocean on a return, than remain where he was. 


78 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


His journal sliows that he was entirely devoted to the business 
of his mission, — an unwearied, self-sacrificing patriot. It also 
shows that he was deficient in certain qualities essential to suc¬ 
cess in the court of Versailles, and that he was daily becoming 
more alienated from his colleagues, and especially from Dr. Frank¬ 
lin, the supremacy of whose influence could not be concealed. 
Under these circumstances, and in consequence of representations 
from both Franklin and Adams, Congress decided to make Dr. 
Franklin sole minister at the court of France. Mr. Lee was 
despatched to Madrid; but for Mr. Adams no provision was 
made. This oversight was simply owing to the harassed and 
distracted condition of Congress at that time. Thus doomed to 
idleness, and uncertain respecting duty, his situation was exceed¬ 
ingly painful. “ I cannot,” he wrote, “ eat pensions and sinecures : 
they would stick in my throat.” 

On the 17th of June, 1779, he embarked on board the French 
frigate “ Sensible; ” and arrived safely in Boston with his son on 
the 2d of August, after an absence of seventeen months. 

For such a man as Mr. Adams, in such stirring times, there was 
no such thing as rest. Immediately upon his arrival at Braintree, 
he was chosen to represent the town in the state convention then 
held at Cambridge. At the same time, he prepared an elaborate 
review of the state of the different nations in Europe, so far as it 
might have a bearing on the interests of the United States. The 
controversies between the individual members of the foreign dele¬ 
gation had agitated Congress and the country. There jvero many 
who were in favor of recalling Dr. Franklin; but his popularity 
with the French court, and especially with the minister. Count de 
Vergennes, defeated this measure. There was a long and bitter 
conflict in Congress respecting the appointment of commissioners 
to the foreign courts. 

In September, 1779, Mr. Adams was chosen again to go to Paris, 
there to hold himself in readiness to negotiate a treaty of peace 
and of commerce with Great Britain so soon as the British cabi¬ 
net might be found willing to listen to such proposals. The 
Chevalier de la Luzerne, the French minister, who had accom¬ 
panied Mr. Adams to America, wrote him a very polite note, con¬ 
gratulating him upon his appointment, and offering him a passage 
in the return French frigate. M. Marbois had been so much im¬ 
pressed with the distinguished talents of Mr. Adams’s son, John 


JOHN ADAMS. 


79 


Quincy, that he sent his father a special injunction to carry him 
back, that he might profit by the advantages of a European edu¬ 
cation. 

On the 13th of November, 1779, Mr. Adams was again on board 
the “ Sensible,’^ outward bound. The voyage was dismal; and the 
ship having sprung a leak, and being in danger of foundering, 
they were compelled to make the first European port, which was 
that of Ferrol, in Spain. In midwinter, Mr. Adams crossed the 
Pyrenees, and reached Paris on the 5th of February, 1780. He 
was to remain in the French capital until an opportunity should 
present itself to open negotiations with Great Britain. The 
Count, de Yergeiines assumed, and very properly, that France, 
our powerful ally, should be specially consulted upon any terms 
which were to be presented to the British cabinet; and that it 
would be manifestly unjust, under the circumstances, for the Unit¬ 
ed States to negotiate a separate peace with Great Britain, with¬ 
out the approval of the French nation. On the other hand, Mr. 
Adams very properly assumed that the United States had not 
placed their destinies in the hands of France, so as to lose ail 
their independent power, and to be bound, like a slave, to obey 
the behests of a master. Here came the split, distrust, aliena¬ 
tion, mutual repugnance. 

There were two motives which influenced France to enter into 
the American alliance. One was a strong popular sympathy in 
our cause, as patriots struggling for liberty: the other was a na¬ 
tional dislike to England, and a desire to humble that uncompro¬ 
mising power, and so to secure the friendship of America as to 
obtain a favorable commercial treaty. Mr. Adams acted upon the 
principle that sympathy with Americans, as victims of oppression, 
had no influence whatever with France; that the French Govern¬ 
ment, in its alliance, was influenced by pure and undiluted selfish¬ 
ness. Dr. Franklin did not sympathize in these views, and did 
not give Mr. Adams his moral support. Much annoyed, Mr. 
Adams at length decided to go to Holland. In taking his depart¬ 
ure, he wrote a letter to the Count de Vergennes, which did but 
increase the alienation. The count was so indignant, that he sent 
to the Congress at Philadelphia, soliciting the recall of the cona- 
missions which had been intrusted to Mr. Adams. 

In Holland he was eminently useful; negotiating important 
loans, and forming important commercial treaties. In his bold 


so 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


measures here, he assumed much responsibility, for which he was 
commended by Congress. In this brief sketch, it is impossible to 
do full justice to these complicated negotiations. The Count de 
Vergennes apprehended Mr. Adams might propose terms to Great 
Britain unfavorable to the interests of France. Mr. Adams appre¬ 
hended that the count would insist upon terms of peace so favora- 
ble to French commerce as to cripple the commercial intercourse 
of the United States with England and the other nations of Europe. 
Both had reason for their fears. 

Mr. Adams ever regarded, and justly, his mission to Holland as 
the greatest success of his life. Through his very great efforts, 
sagaciously conducted, he was at length received as the accred¬ 
ited minister of the United States, and recognized .as a member of 
the corps diplomatique at- the Hague. On the very day that he 
was thus received by the States-General, he proposed a treaty of 
amity and commerce; and on the 7th of October, 1782, had the 
pleasure of announcing the second alliance entered into by the 
United States as a sovereign power. The glory of this great 
event belongs undeniably to John Adams. It was deemed so 
important, that two medals were engraved in Holland in its com¬ 
memoration. Monsieur,’’ said a French gentleman to Mr. Adams 
on his return to Paris, ^‘you are the Washington of negotiation.” 
Mr. Adams was highly gratified by the compliments which were 
lavished upon him; but he .intimates that Dr. Franklin would die 
of jealolisy should he hear them. 

The alliance with Holland was a great victory; no less impor¬ 
tant in its bearing upon the war than the surrender of Cornwallis, 
which occurred about the same time. The conflict in the cabinet 
was as arduous as that in the field. The British ministry now 
began to manifest some disposition to negotiate. In October, 
1782, Mr. Adams returned to Paris. Private emissaries had been 
sent to the continent from London to ascertain who the Americans 
were who were authorized to treat, and what >vas the extent of 
their powers. In anticipation of this event. Congress had ap¬ 
pointed a commission, consisting of Adams, Franklin, H. Laurens, 
Jay, and Jefferson, with full authority to negotiate a treaty of 
peace. 

The alienation between Mr. Adams and^the French court was 
well known; and an agent was sent by Lord North to sound him 
upon the possibility of a separate truce, abandoning France. A 


JOHN ADAMS. 


81 


meaner act we could not have been guilty of than to have acceded 
to this proposal. England, exasperated against the nation which 
had rescued us from her grasp, was anxious, by detaching us from 
the conflict, to wreak her whole vengeance upon our generous 
ally. This was just what Count Vergennes had apprehended. 
Mr. Adams consented to meet this emissary at Amsterdam on the 
20th of March; though he wisely attached the condition, that a wit* 
ness should be present at the interview, and that he should be 
permitted to communicate all that should pass both to Dr. Frank¬ 
lin and the Count de Yergennes, who were in cordial sympathy 
with each other. These conditions so embarrassed Digges, the 
British envoy, that his mission was an entire failure. France, 
Spain, and Holland were now all, with more or less of zeal, com¬ 
bined with the United States against England. The British cabi¬ 
net made a covert effort for a separate pacification with France, 
which was also unsuccessful. 

After a vast amount of diplomatic manoeuvring, a definite 
treaty of peace with England was signed at Paris on the 21st of 
January, 1783. The re-action from the excitement, toil, and anx¬ 
iety through which Mr. Adams had passed, threw him into a fever. 
He occupied the Hfitel du Roi, in the Place du Carrousel. It was 
a thoroughfare over whose pavements a constant stream of car¬ 
riages was rolling, with a noise like thunder, incessantly for 
twenty-one hours out of the twenty-four. Burning with, fever, 
he found sleep impossible. His friends despaired of his re¬ 
covery. 

The sufferings of Mrs. Adams, in this long separation from her 
husband, were very severe. A nobler woman never breathed. 
She deserves from a nation^s gratitude a monument equally high 
and massive with that of her illustrious companion. When asked, 
after Mr. Adams had been absent three years, “ Had you knowm 
that Mr. Adams would have remained so long abroad, w^ould you 
have consented that he should have gone ? ” she replied, after a 
moment’s hesitation,— 

If I had known that Mr. Adams could have effected what he 
has done, I would not only have submitted to the absence I have 
endured, painful as it has been, but I would not have opposed it, 
eve]i though three years more should be added to the number. I 
feel a pleasure in being able to sacrifice my selfish passions to the 
general good, and in imitating the example which has taught me 
11 


82 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


to consider myself and family but as the small dust of the balance 
when compared with the great community.’’ 

As soon as Mr. Adams could be removed, he was taken to 
Auteuil, where he enjoyed the pure air and silenc'e of the coun¬ 
try. But recover}^ was very slow. Feeble, emaciate, languid, 
his friends advised him to go to England to drink the waters of 
Bath. On Monday, the 20th of October, he set out, with his son 
and one servant, for London. While- Mr. Adams was in England, 
still drooping and desponding, he received despatches urging the 
indispensable necessity of his repairing immediately to Amster¬ 
dam to negotiate another loan. 

It was winter,” writes Mr. Adams. “ My health was very deli¬ 
cate. A journey to Holland, at that season, would very probably 
put an end to my labors. I scarcely saw a possibility of surviving 
it. Nevertheless, no man knows what he can bear till he tries. A 
few moments’ reflection determined me.” 



JOHN ADAMS THE AMBASSADOR. 


Mr. Adams and his son repaired to the coast; spent three days 
in a miserable inn, waiting for a wind; were tossed upon sickening 
















JOHN ADAMS. 


83 


billows three days, beating against a wintry gale; were driven to 
the Island of Goeree, and landed on a desolate shore; walked five 
miles over ice and snow to a wretched town; hired a farmer’s 
cart, the only vehicle which could be obtained, without cushions 
or springs; rattled over the deep ruts of the frozen ground twelve 
miles, till they reached a ferry to cross over to the main land; 
found all the boats on the other side ; waited at th6 ferry several 
days ; hired, at a great price, an ice-boat to take them over; were 
rowed in the water till they came to the ice; then the sailors, 
eight in number, dragged the boat upon the ice, and pushed it 
along while the passengers walked. When they came to a spot 
where the ice was thin, and the boat broke through, they all 
jumped in again. Were all day, and until late at night, making 
the passage, embarking and disembarking many times. Wet, 
chilled, exhausted, reached the shore; could find no carriage; 
hired a peasant’s wagon to take them to Brielle, and there obtained 
conveyance through intense cold to the Hague, where Mr. Adams 
succeeded in raising another loan, and saved the credit of his 
country. There is other heroism besides that which is exhibited 
on the bloody field, and there are other battles besides those which 
are fought with powder and bullets. 

Mr. Adams writes in his journal, I had ridden on horseback 
often to Congress, over roads and across ferries, of which the pres¬ 
ent generation have no idea; and once, in 1777, in the dead of 
winter, from Braintree to Baltimore, five hundred miles, on a trot¬ 
ting horse. I had been three days in the Gulf Stream, in 1778, in 
a furious hurricane, and a storm of thunder and lightning, which 
struck down our men upon deck, and cracked our mainmast; when 
the oldest oflScers and stoutest seamen stood aghast, at their last 
prayers, dreading every moment that a butt would start, and all 
perish. I had crossed the Atlantic,^in 1779, in a leaky ship, with 
perhaps four hundred men on board, who were scarcely able, with 
two large pumps going all the twenty-four hours, to keep water 
from filling the hold; in hourly danger, for twenty days together, 
of foundering at sea. I had passed the mountains in Spain, in the 
. winter, among ice and snow, partly on mule-back, and partly on 
foot. Yet I never suffered so much in any of these situations, as in 
that jaunt from Bath to Amsterdam, in January, 1784. Nor did any 
of these adventures ever do such lasting injury to my health. 1 
never got over it till my return home in 1788.” 


84 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS, 


While in England, Mr. Adams had enjoyed the intense gratificar 
tion of hearing George III., from his throne, announce to Parlia¬ 
ment that he had concluded a treaty of peace, in which he recog¬ 
nized the independence of the United States. While in Holland, 
Frederick II. of Prussia made overtures to Mr. Adams for a treaty 
of commerce. At the same time, Mr. Adams received a new com¬ 
mission, authorizing him to act, with Franklin and Jefferson, to 
negotiate treaties of commerce with any of the foreign powers. 
As it was evident that his residence abroad was to be extended, 
he wrote to Mrs. Adams to join him with the residue of their 
family. The happy re-union took place in the summer of 1784; 
and they sele’cted for their residence a quiet retreat at Auteuil, 
near Paris. And now came probably the happiest period of Mr. 
Adams’s life. His wife, his eldest son, John Quincy, then rising 
into a youth of great promise, and his daughter, whose beauty 
and accomplishments made her justly the pride of both father and 
mother, were with him. 

Mrs. Adams, in her letters, gives a very graphic account of her 
life at Auteuil. The village was four miles from Paris. The house 
was very large, and coldly elegant, Avith mirrors and waxed floors, 
but destitute of comfort. It Avas situated near the celebrated park 
called the Woods of Boulogne, Avhere Mr. Adams, AA^hose health 
required that he should take much exercise, walked several hours 
every day. The AA^alls were lined Avith magnificent mirrors; but* 
there AA^as not a carpet in the house, nor a table better than an oak 
board. A servant polished the floors each morning with a brush 
buckled to one of his feet. The expenses of housekeeping Avere 
found to be enormous. A heavy tax was imposed upon 'every 
thing. All articles of domestic use Avere about thirty per cent 
higher than in Boston. It was absolutely necessary to keep a 
coach ; and the coachman and horses cost fifteen guineas a month. 
The social customs of the country rendered it indispensable that 
they should keep seven servants. Their expenses Avere so heavy, 
that it required all Mrs. Adams’s remarkable financial skill to save 
them from pecuniary ruin. The humble style in which they were 
compelled to live, compared with the splendor in which all the. 
other foreign ministers indulged, must have been no small tiial. 
Mr. Jay was compelled to resign his ofiice, as he found that he 
could not support himself upon his salary. 

On the 24th of February, 1785, peace with England having been 


JOHN ADAMS. 


85 


proclaimed, Congress appointed Mr. Adams envoy to the court of 
St. James. He crossed the Channel to assume these new arduous 
and delicate responsibilities. He was now to meet, face to face, 
the King of England, who had so long regarded him as a traitor, 
and against whose despotic power he had assisted the nation so 
successfully to contend. Mr. Adams, in his despatch to Mr. Jc^y, 
then secretary of foreign affairs, has left an interesting account 
of his first public reception. 

He rode to court, by invitation of Lord Carmarthen, in his coach. 
In the ante-chamber he found the foom full of ministers of state, 
generals, bishops, and all sorts of courtiers, each waiting his turn 
for an audience. He was soon conducted into the king’s closet, 
where he was left alone with the king and his .secretary of state. 
Mr. Adams, according to the court etiquette, upon which he had 
carefully informed himself, made three low bows, — one at the 
door, another when he made a couple of steps, and the third when 
he stood before the king. He then, in a voice tremulous with the 
emotion which the scene was calculated to inspire, addressed his 
Majesty in the following words: — 

Sire, the United States of America have appointed me their 
minister plenipotentiary to your Majesty, and have directed me 
to deliver to your Majesty this letter, which contains the evidence 
of it. It is in obedience to their express commands that I have 
the honor to assure your Majesty of their unanimous disposition 
and desire to cultivate the most friendly and liberal intercourse 
between your Majesty’s subjects and their citizens, and of their 
best wishes for your Majesty’s health and for that of the royal 
family. 

“ The appointment of a minister from the United States to your 
Majesty’s court will form an epoch in the history of England and 
America. I think myself more fortunate than all my fellow-citi¬ 
zens in having the* distinguished honor to be the first to stand in 
your Majesty’s royal presence in a diplomatic character; and I 
shall esteem myself the happiest of men if I can be instrumental 
in recommending my country more and more to your Majesty’s 
royal benevelence, and of restoring the entire esteem, confidence, 
and affection, or, in better words, the old good nature and the-old 
harmony, between people, who, though separated by an ocean and 
under different governments, have the same language, a similar 
'•eligion, and kindred blood. I beg your Majesty’s permission to 


86 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


add, that, although I have sometimes before been intrusted by my 
country, it was never, in my whole life, in a manner so agreeable 
to myself.’^ 

The king listened to this address in evident emotion. He seemed 
not a little agitated; for to his proud spirit it was an hour of deep 
humiliation. With a voice even more tremulous than that with 
which Mr. Adams had spoken, he replied, — 

“ Sir, the circumstances of this audience are so extraordinary, 
the language you have now held is so extremely pioper, and the 
feelings you have discovered SO justly adapted to the occasion, 
that I must say that I not only receive with pleasure the assur¬ 
ance of the friendly disposition of’the people of the United States 
but that I am very glad that the choice has fallen upon you as 
their minister. But I wish you, sir, to believe, and that it may be 
understood in America, that I have done nothing in the late con¬ 
test but what I thought myself indispensably bound to do by the 
duty which I owed to my people. I wdll be frank with you. I 
was the last to conform to the separation; but the separation 
having been made, and having become inevitable, I have always 
said, as I say now, that I would be the first to meet the friendship 
of the United States as an independent power. The moment I 
see such sentiments and language as yours prevail, and a disposi¬ 
tion to give this country the preference, that moment I shall say. 
Let the circumstances of language, religion, and blood, have their 
full effect.” 

This formality being over, the king asked Mr. Adams if he came 
last from France. Upon receiving an affirmative reply, he smiled, 
and, assuming an air of familiarity, said, There is an opinion 
among some people that you are not the most attached, of all your 
countrymen, to the manners of France.” This perhaps explains 
the reason why the king had said,' I am glad that the choice has 
fallen upon you,” and throws light upon the suggestion he had 
ventured to throw out, that we should manifest “ a disposition to 
give this country the preference.” But for the aid of our ally, we 
should inevitably have been crushed by the British armies. Yet 
Mr. Adams, regarding those efforts as purely selfish, was not dis- 
posed to manifest the slightest gratitude. He was, however, a 
little embarrassed by the king’s allusion to his want of attachment 
to France, and replied, “ That opinion, sir, is not mistaken. I must 
avow to your Majesty, I have no attachment but to my own 


JOHN ADAMS. 


87 


country.” The king instantly responded, An honest man will 
never have any other.” 

Mr. Adamses situation in London was more painful even than in 
Paris. He was met there only with haughtiness and ill-will. Every¬ 
where he encountered cold civility, supercilious indifference. His 
literary labors in London were of much service to his country, as he 
publishedA Defence of the American Constitution,” in three vol¬ 
umes, which displayed much ability, and exerted a powerful influ¬ 
ence. As Great Britain did not condescend to appoint a minister 
to the United States, and as Mr. Adams felt that he was accom¬ 
plishing but little, he solicited permission to return to his own 
country, and reached his rural home in Braintree, from which he 
had so long been absent, in June of 1788. 

When some persons accused Mr. Adams of being covertly in 
favor of monarchical institutions, Mr. Jefferson replied, Gentle¬ 
men, you do not know that man. There is not upon this earth a 
more perfectly honest man than John Adams. It is not in his 
nature to meditate any thing which he would not publish to the 
world. I know him well; and I repeat, that a more honest man 
never issued from the hands of his Creator.” 

Five years after the accomplishment of our independence, it 
was found, to the very bitter disappointment of many, that there 
was not so much prosperity, neither was order so well established, 
as in colonial days, while matters were manifestly growing worse. 
There, was no common principle harmonizing the action of the 
different States. We were not a nation. We had no national 
sense of honor. It was necessary to organize the Federal Govern¬ 
ment anew. The success of the Revolution had afforded the 
United States, as.Washington said, ^‘the opportunity of becoming 
a respectable nation.” 

Fifty-five delegates were appointed by the various States of the 
Confederacy to frame a Constitution for the United States of 
America. They met in Independence Hall, in Philadelphia, where 
the Declaration of Independence had been signed. The Constitu¬ 
tion which they drew up was accepted by the States, and we be¬ 
came a nation. , George Washington was unanimously chosen 
President for four years; and John Adams, rendered illustrious 
by his signal services at home and abroad, was chosen Vice-Presi¬ 
dent. 

The first Congress under the Constitution met in New York 


88 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


on the 4th of March, 1789. The City Hall, which stood at the 
corner of Wall and Nassau Streets, where the Custom House now 
stands, had been remodelled for their accommodation, aud had 
received the name of Federal Hall. The first business, after the 
organization of the two houses, was to .count the votes for Presi¬ 
dent and Vice-President. Mr. Adams was the first to receive the 
official information of his election. At ten o’clock on the morning 
of the 12th of April, he left his residence in Braintree, and was 
escorted by a troop of horse to Boston. He was received with 
the ringing of bells, the firing of cannon, and the shouts of an im¬ 
mense concourse of people. His journey to New York was a 
continued ovation. At Hartford the manufacturers presented him 
with a piece of broadcloth for a suit of clothes, and the corpora¬ 
tion of New Haven presented him with the freedom of the city. 
The West-Chester Light Horse escorted him from the Connecticut 
line to King’s Bridge, where he was met by a cavalcade of the 
heads of departments, a large number of members of Congress, 
military officers and private citizens, in carriages and on horse¬ 
back, who conducted him through the swarming streets to the 
house of John Jay, in the lower part of the city. The President’s 
mansion was the house since known as Bunker’s Hotel, near the 
Bowling Green. Mr. Adams occupied a very beautiful residence 
at Richmond Hill. 

The question at this time was very warmly agitated in Congress 
and throughout the country respecting the permanent location of 
the seat of government. In 1783, the Old Continental Congress 
adjourned from Philadelphia to Princeton, where it occupied for a 
time the halls of college. Thence it adjourned to New York, 
where it assembled in the spring of 1785. The question of* the 
seat of government was brought before the Convention for form¬ 
ing the Constitution, which was assembled in Philadelphia. The 
Eastern States were in favor of New York. Pennsylvania pleaded 
for the banks of the Delaware. The more Southern States advo¬ 
cated the banks of the Potomac. 

It was urged in favor of New York, that “ honesty was in 
fashion” there, and that there was no city in the world so cele¬ 
brated “for the orderly and decent behavior of its inhabitants.” 
On the other hand. Dr. Rush wrote, “I rejoice in the prospect of 
Congress leaving New York. It is a sink of political vice. Do 
as you please, but tear Congress away from New York in any 


. JOHN ADAMS. 


89 


way.” The South-Carolinians objected to Philadelphia on account 
of the Quakers, who, they said, “ were eternally dogging Southern 
members about with their schemes of emancipation.” This ques¬ 
tion, which was connected with another respecting the assumption 
of State debts, threatened to dissolve the Union.” One morning, 
Jefferson met Hamilton on Broadway; and for an hour they walked 
up and down the crowded pavement, discussing the agitating 
theme. In conclusion, Jefferson proposed that Hamilton should 
dine with him the next evening, promising to invite a few other 
influential friends to talk the matter over. ^^It is impossible,” 
said Jefferson, “ that reasonable men, consulting together coolly, 
can fail, by some mutual sacriflces of opinion, to form a compro¬ 
mise which is to save the Union.” 

By uniting the two questions of the location of the Capitol and 
the assumption of the State debts, a compromise was effected. It 
was agreed that the government should be permanently estab¬ 
lished on the Potomac, at a place called Conogocheague, now the 
District of Columbia; that ten years should be allowed for the erec¬ 
tion of the necessary buildings for the accommodation of the gov¬ 
ernment ; and that, in the mean time, Philadelphia should be the 
metropolitan city. The people of New York were greatly vexed. 
Robert Morris, senator from Pennsylvania, was quite influential in 
accomplishing this result. He concluded, that, if the public offices 
were once opened in Philadelphia, they would continue there, and 
that Conogocheague would be forgotten. But for the influence 
of Washington, it is not improbable that this might have been the 
case. 

The irritation of New York received graphic expression in a 
caricature which was posted throughout the city. It represented 
Robert Morris marching off with Federal Hall upon his shoulders. 
Its windows were crowded with members of both houses eagerly 
looking out, some encouraging, others anathematizing, the stout 
Pennsylvania senator as he bore away the prize. The Devil 
stood grinning upon the roof of Paulus Hook Ferry-house, beckon¬ 
ing in a patronizing way to Mr. Morris, and saying, This way, 
Bobby; this way.” 

Mrs. Adams superintended the removal of their effects to Phila¬ 
delphia. She thus describes her new residence at Bush Hill: 
“ Though there remains neither bush nor shrub upon it, and very 
few trees except the pine grove behind it, yet Bush Hill is a 
12 


90 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


very beautiful place; but the grand and the sublime I left at 
Richmond Hill.” 

For a long time, Congress was not at all pleased with the change, 
and bitter were the complaints which were unceasingly uttered. 
But at length the murmurs subsided, and were lost in the excite¬ 
ment of politics and the gayeties of the republican court. The 
winter presented a continual succession of balls, dinner-parties, 
and similar festivities. I should spend a very dissipated winter,” 
Mrs. Adams writes, if I were to accept one-half the invitations I 
receive, particularly to the routs, or tea and cards.” In the midst 
of this external gayety. Congress was tossed by angry passions 
and stormy debates. Both Washington and Adams were assailed 
with intensest bitterness. Both were accused of monarchical ten¬ 
dencies, and of fondness for the pomp and pageantry of royalty. 
The Deir.ocratic party was now rapidly rising into controlling 
power. Still both Washington and Adams were re-elected, and 
again on the 4th of March, 1793, took the oaths of oflSce. 

There was certainly then a degree of ceremony observed, re¬ 
flecting somewhat the pageantry of European courts, which has 
not since been continued. President Washington every fine day 
walked out. Two aides always accompanied him, who were kept 
at a respectful distance, never engaging in conversation. He 
had three very splendid carriages. He drove to church with two 
horses, into the country with four; and six magnificent cream- 
colored chargers drew him to the Senate. His servants wore a 
livery of white, trimmed with scarlet or orange. Both Washing¬ 
ton and Adams were gentlemen of the old school,” reserved and 
somewhat stately in courtesy. An ej^e-witness describes the 
scene presented as Washington opened a session of Congress. An 
immense crowd filled the street through which he was to pass. 
As he left his carriage, he ascended the steps of the edifice, and 
paused upon the upper platform. There he stood for a moment, 
distinctly seen by everybody. He stood in all his civic dignity 
and moral grandeur, erect, serene, majestic. His costume was a 
full suit of black velvet; his hair, in itself blanched by time, 
powdered to snowy whiteness, a dress sword at his side, and his 
hat held in his hand. Thus he stood in silence; and what mo¬ 
ments those were! Throughout the dense crowd profound still¬ 
ness reigned. Not a word was heard, not a breath. ^ Palpitations 
took the place of sounds. It was a feeling infinitely beyond that 


JOHN ADAMS. 


91 


which vents itself in shouts. Every heart was full. In vain 
would any tongue have spoken. All were gazing in mute, unut¬ 
terable admiration. Every eye was riveted on that form, — the 
greatest, purest, most exalted of mortals.’^ 

Just about this time, that moral earthquake, the French Eevolu- 
tion, shook the continent of Europe. Mr. Adams felt no sympathy 
with the French people in this struggle; for he had no confidence 
in their power of self-government, and utterly abhorred the athe¬ 
istic character of those philosopher in his judgment, inaugu¬ 
rated the movement. He wrote to Dr. Price, — 

“ I know that encyclopedists and economists, Diderot and 
P^Alembert, Voltaire and Rousseau, have contributed to this event 
more than Sidney, Locke, or Hoadly, — perhaps more than th.e 
American Revolution ; and I own to you, I know not what to 
make of a republic of thirty million atheists.” 

On the other hand, Jefferson’s sympathies were strongly enlisted 
in behalf of the French people, struggling to throw off the yoke 
of intolerable despotism. Hence originated the alienation between 
these two distinguished men. Washington at first hailed the 
French Revolution with hope; but, as its disorders became more 
developed, he leaned more strongly to the views of Mr. xidams. 
Two very powerful parties were thus soon organized. Adams was 
at the head of the one whose syrfipathies were with England. 
Jefferson led the other in sympathy with France. 

England proclaimed war against the French republicans; played 
the tyrant over weaker nations upon the ocean; and, despising our 
feeble navy, insulted and harassed our commerce. This conduct 
swept increasingly the current of popular feeling towards Mr. 
Jefferson and his party. Upon the retirement of Washington, at 
tlie close of his second presidential term, there was a very hotly 
contested election; and Mr. Adams, by a slender majority, was 
chosen President; and Thomas Jefferson, Vice-President. 

Weary of the cares of state, and longing to return to his loved 
home at Mount Vernon, Washington gladly transferred the sceptre 
to. the hands of his successor. Henry VII. said of his son, who 
was eager for the crown, Alas I he little knows what a heap of 
cafes and sorrows he snatcheth at.” John Adams found indeed, as 
even Washington had found before him, the crown of empire to be 
a crown of thorns. On the 4th of March, 1797, at Philadelphia, 
John Adams was inaugurated President of the United States. At 


92 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


an early hour in the morning, Chestnut Street, in the vicinity of 
Congress Hall, was densely crowded. The hall itself was thronged, 
many of the members surrendering their seats to the ladies. Mr. 
Jefferson first took the oath as Vice-President. At twelve o’clock, 
Washington entered the hall, followed in a few moments by Mr. 
Adams. They were both received with enthusiasm. As soon as 
the oath had been administered, Mr. Adams pronounced his inau¬ 
gural. At the close of the ceremony, Washington retired, followed 
by a tumultuous throng, eager to catch a last look of the object of 
their veneration. Mr. Adams had but just reached his- residence 
when President Washington called upon him, and cordially congra¬ 
tulated him with wishes for his happy, successfuj, and honorable 
administration. 

These were stormy days, and it required great wisdom safely 
to navigate the Ship of State. That Mr. Adams’s administration 
was conscientious, patriotic, and able, will now be universally con¬ 
ceded. In the then divided state of the public mind, an arch¬ 
angel could not have conciliated the hostile parties. The excite¬ 
ment which the French Revolution created in this country, as the 
community ranged themselves on the side of England or of France, 
was intense. For four y ars, Mr. Adams struggled through almost 
a constant tempest of vssaults. He was never truly a popular 
man. The party arrayed against him, with the Vice-President at 
its head, was powerful in numbers, and still more powerful in 
ability. He was not a man of conciliatory manners or of winning 
speech. After four years of harassment, which must have been 
the four least happy years of his life, he was mortified by losing a 
re-election. Jefferson was chosen President; Aaron Burr, Vice- 
President; and John Adams was left to return to his farm at 
Quincy. His chagrin was great, so great as to lead him to the 
lamentable mistake of refusing to remain in Philadelphia to wit¬ 
ness the inauguration of his successful rival. 

There had ensued a breach in the friendship of these illustrious 
men, which was not closed for thirteen years. But it is the duty 
of the historian to record that there was never a more pure and 
conscientious administration in this country than that of John 
Adams. Posterity has given its verdict in approval of nearly all 
his measures. In almost every conflict, it is now admitted that he 
was in the right, and his opponents in the wrong. Though the 
treatment he had received wounded him deeply, and he keenly 


JOHN ADAMS. 


93 


felt the failure of his re-election, it was not without some emotions 
of gladness that he laid aside the cares of state to seek refuge in 
the quiet retreat of his home at Braintree. 

It was on the 4th of March, 1801, that Mr. Adams retired to 
private life, after uninterrupted devotion to the public service for 
twenty-six years,— service as arduous, as self-sacrificing, as de¬ 
voted, as ever fell to the lot of any man. During these long years 
of anxiety and toil, in which he was laying, broad and deep, the 
foundations of an empire destined to be the greatest upon which 
the sun has ever shone, he had received from his impoverished 
country but a meagre support. The only privilege he carried 
with him into his retirement was that of franking his letters, and 
receiving them free from postage, for the remainder of Ijis life. 

He had barely sufficient property to give him needful comforts 
during his declining years. Party spirit then ran so high, that 
obloquy pursued him even into his retreat. Many hours were 
imbittered by the attacks which were made upon him. Clouds 
of social grief, which at times darken over every family, threw 
their shades upon the homestead at Quincy. 

About the time of Mr. Adams’s retirement, his eldest son,'who 
was married, and settled in New York, suddenly died, leaving as a 
legacy to his father’s care a wife and two infant children. He 
then spoke of this event as the deepest affliction of his life. 
Almost forgotten in his secluded retreat, he found the transition 
painful from his life of excitement, agitation, and the most intense 
intellectual activity, to one of repose, amounting almost to stagna¬ 
tion. He was then sixty-six years of age. A quarter of a century 
still remained to him before he died. He generally avoided all 
public gatherings, and took but little part in political questions, 
devoting his time mainly to the cultivation of his farm. When 
England, looking contemptuously upon our feeble navy, persisted 
in perpetrating the outrage of searching American ships wherever 
they might be found, and dragging from them any sailors who 
might be designated by any pert lieutenant as British subjects, 
both John Adams and his son John Quincy nobly supported the 
policy of Mr. Jefferson in resenting these outrages. It now seems 
strange that a single man could be found in all America willing to 
submit to such insolence. But Mr. Adams was for this bitterly 
accused of being recreant to his life-long principles, and of joining 
Iho party who were charged with seeking an excuse for dragging 


94 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


our country into a war against England, that we might thus aid 
Prance. 

On this occasion, John Adams, for the first time since his retire 
ment, broke silence, and drew up a very able paper, exposing the 
atrocity of the British pretensions. It was one of the shrewd 
observations of Napoleon, that it is not safe to judge of what a 
nation will do from what it is for the interest of that nation to do, 
as peoples are governed far more by their passions than by their 
supposed interests. England, actuated by haughty and imbit- 
tered feelings, plunged into her second war with America. Mr. 
Adams had been associated with a party hostile to France, and in 
favor of submission to the British pretensions. In advocating re¬ 
sistance, he was regarded as abandoning his old friends, and with 
bitter animosity was he assailed.* 

Years rolled on. The treaty of Ghent brought peace with Eng¬ 
land. Jefferson’s two terms of service expired. Madison and 
Monroe came and went; and still the sage of Quincy remained, 
approaching his ninetieth year. In 1813, their only daughter, who 
was not very happily married, died, after a long and painful sick¬ 
ness. In 1818, when Mr. Adams was eighty-two years of age, his 
noble wife, who had shared with him the joys and griefs of more 
than half a century, died, at the age of seventy-four. The event 
threw over him a shade of sadness which never disappeared. A 
gentleman who visited Quincy a year or two before her death 
gave a description of the interview. Mr. Adams was, in bodily 
strength, very infirm, tottering und shaking with age ; but 
his mind seemed as vigorous, and his heart as young, as ever. 
There was a boy’s joyousness and elasticity in his hearty laugh. 
He joked, was full of fun, and talked about everybody and every 
thing with the utmost freedom and abandon, Ilis knowledge 
seemed to his visitor boundless; for he was equally at home upon 
whatever subject might be introduced. Nothing could be more 
entertaining than his conversation, it was so replete with anecdote 
and lively sallies of wit. 

While thus conversing, Mrs. Adams came in,—a tall and stately 
lady of rather formal address. “ A cap of exquisite lace sur¬ 
rounded features still exhibiting intellect and energy. Her dress 
was snowy white, and there was that immaculate'neatness in her 

* It is not impossible that some of these statements may be disputed ; but incontro- 
rertible evidence will be found to sustain them in the “ Life and Times of John Adams.” 


JOHN ADAMS. 


95 


appearance which gives to age almost the sweetness of youth. 
With less warmth of manner and sociableness than Mr. Adams, 
she was sufficiently gracious, and her occasional remarks betrayed 
intellectual vigor and strong sense. The guest went away, feel 
ing that he should never again behold such living specimens of 
the ^ great old.’ ” 

While his drooping frame and feeble step and dimmed eye 
showed the ravages of years, his mind retained its wonted vigor. 
He read until his vision failed, and was then read to, many hours 
every day. He loved, in conversation with his friends, to recall 
the scenes of his younger years, and to fight his battles over 
again. His son, John Quincy, rose to distinction, and occupied 
high posts of honor at home and abroad. In 1825, his parental 
pride was gratified, and his parental heart gladdened, in the eleva¬ 
tion of his son to the chair which the father had honored as Presi¬ 
dent of the United States. When John Quincy Adams received a 
note from Rufus King, informing him of his election, he enclosed 
it to his father, with the following lines from his own pen, under 
date of Feb. 29, 1825: — 

My dear and honored Fatherj — The enclosed note from Mr. 
King will inform you of the event of this day; upon which I 
can only offer you my congratulations, and ask your blessing and 
prayers. Your affectionate and dutiful son, 

John Quincy Adams. 

John Adams was now ninety years of age. His enfeebled pow¬ 
ers indicated that his end was drawing nigh. The 4th of July, 
1826, came. The nation had made arrangements for a more than 
usually brilliant celebration of that anniversary. Adams and Jef- 
ferson still lived. It was hoped that they might be brought to¬ 
gether, aj some favored spot, as the nation’s guests. It would 
indeed have been a touching spectacle to have seen these venera¬ 
ble men, after a separation of twenty-five years, again clasp each 
other’s hands, and exchange congratulations in view of the pros¬ 
perity and power of the nation which they had done so much 
to form. 

But, as the time drew near, it was evident that neither of them 
could bear a journey. On Friday morning, the 30th of June, a 
gentleman called upon Mr. Adams to obtain a toast to be pro- 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


90 

sented on the 4tli of July at the celebration in Quincy. “ I give 
you/’ said he, “ Independence forever 

He was now rapidly declining. On the morning of the 4th, 
his physician judged that he would scarcely survive the day. 
There was the ringing of bells, the exultant music of martial 
bands, the thunders of artillery from ships and forts, from hills and 
valleys, echoing all over our land, as rejoicing millions welcomed 
the natal day of the nation. Mr. Adams, upon his dying couch; 
listened to these sounds of joy with silent emotion. I)o you 
know what day it is?” some one inquired. “ Oh, yes! ” he replied: 
“it is the glorious 4th of July. God bless it! God bless you 
all! It is a great and glorious*day.” — “Thomas Jefferson,” he 
murmured at a later hour to himself, “still survives.” These 
were his last words. But he was mistaken. An hour or two 
before, the spirit of Jefferson had taken its flighjt. The sands of 
his own long and memorable life were now run out, and gently 
he passed away into that sleep from which there is no earthly 
waking. 

Mr. Adams was a man of rather cold courtesy of manners, of 
powerful intellect, of incorruptible integrity. It was one defect 
in his character, that he was deficient in those genial, sympathetic, 
brotherly graces which bind heart to heart. Wherever he ap 
peared, he commanded respect: seldom did he win love. His 
neighbors called him the “Duke of Braintree.” But, through all 
time, he must occupy a conspicuous position in the history of this 
country. It is not easy to find any other name to which America 
is more indebted for those institutions which constitute its power 
and its glory than that of John Adams. 


! 



LNGRAVED EXPRbSSlY FOR ABBOTTS "lIVES OF IHL PR 



























































•^"V - 'V-i • 






CHAPTER III 


THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

Birth and Childhood. — College Life. — A Law Student. — Earnest Scholarship. — Marriage. 

— Estate at Monticello. — Interest in Public Affairs. — Action in the Continental Con¬ 
gress.— Governor of Virginia. — Death of his Wife. — His Grief. — Letters to his Chil¬ 
dren.— Minister to France. — His Popularity. — Political Views. — Scientific Accuracy. 

— Interest in the French Revolution. — Returns to America. — The two Parties, Federal 
and Democratic. — Secretary of State. — Monarchical Sentiments. — Letters. — Corre¬ 
spondence with John Adams. — Alexander Hamilton. — Weary of Office.— Vice-Presi¬ 
dent. — President. — Inaugural. — Stormy Administration. — Life in Retirement. — 
Scenes at Monticello. — Death. 

The ancestors of Thomas Jefferson are said to have been of 
Welsh origin, emigrating from the vicinity of Mount Snowdon, 



MONTICELLO, — RESIDENCE OF T1U).M.\S JEFFERSON. 

But little is known of them. Peter Jefferson, the father of 
Thomas, was a man of handsome property and of considerable 
13 . 97 ■ 





























98 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


culture. He married Jane Randolph, a young lady of nineteen, 
of opulent parentage, born in London, and accustomed to the 
refinements of life. Mr. Peter Jefferson, from his worth of char¬ 
acter and mental attainments, acquired considerable local distinc¬ 
tion, and was at one time professor of mathematics in William 
and Mary College. 

Peter, with his young bride, took an estate of fourteen hundred 
acres upon the slopes of the Blue Ridge, in what is now called 
Albemarle County, and in the vicinity of the present town of 
Charlottesville. The plantation was called Shadwell, from the 
name of the parish in London where his wife was born. His 
home was literally hewn out of the wilderness. There were but 
few white settlers within many miles of the mansion, which con¬ 
sisted of a spacious story and a half cottage-house. A wide hall 
and four large rooms occupied the lower floor. Above these, there 
were good chambers and a spacious garret. Two huge outside 
chimneys contributed to the picturesque aspect of the mansion. It 
was delightfully situated upon a gentle swell of land upon the 
slopes of the Blue Ridge, and commanded a sublime prospect of 
far-reaching mountains and forests. 

Here Thomas v/as born, the oldest child of his parents, on the 
2d of April, 1743. When he was fourteen years of age, his father 
died, leaving a widow and eight children. We know but very lit¬ 
tle about these parents. Mr. Jefferson seldom alluded to them. 
His most distinguished biographer says, “ He was singularly shy 
in speaking or writing of matters of family history.” It is only 
known of his mother, that she was a beautiful and accomplished 
lady, an admirable housekeeper, a good letter-writer, with a.great 
fund of humor. Mr. Jeffer-son used to mention as his earliest 
recollection that of being carried by a slave on a pillow on horse¬ 
back, when he was but two years of age, in one of the journeys 
cf the family. . 

His father and mother belonged to the Church of England. 
Thomas AVas naturally of .a serious, pensive, reflective turn of 
nind. From the time he was five years of age, he was kept dili¬ 
gently at school under the best teachers. He was a general 
favorite with both teachers and scholars; his singular amiability 
winning the love of the one, and his close application to study 
and remarkable proficiency securing the affection and esteein 
of the other. It is not usual for a young man to be fond both of 


THOMAS JEFFERSON. 


99 


mathematics and the classics; but young Jefferson was alike de¬ 
voted to each of these branches of learning. He has often been 
heard to say, that, if he were left to decide between the pleasure 
derived' from the classical education which his father had given 
him and the large estate which he inherited, he should have 
decided in favor of the former. 

In the year 1760, he entered William and Mary College. He 
was then seventeen years of age, and entered an advanced class. 
Williamsburg was then the seat of the Colonial Court, and it was 
the abode of fashion and splendor. Young Jefferson lived in 
college somewhat expensively, keeping fine horses, and much 
caressed by gay society. Still he was earnestly devoted to his 
studies, and irreproachable in his morals. 

It is strange that he was not ruined. In the second year of his 
college course, moved by some unexplained inward impulse, he 
discarded his horses, society, and even his favorite violin, to 
which he had previously given much time. He often devoted 
fifteen hours a day to hard study; allowing himself for exercise 
only a run in the evening twilight of a mile out of the city, and 
back again. He thus attained very high intellectual culture, 
alike excelling in philosophy and tlio languages. The most diffi¬ 
cult Latin and Greek authors he read with facility. A more 
finished scholar has seldom gone forth from collegiate halls; and 
there was not to be found, perhaps, in all Virginia, a more pure- 
minded, upright, gentlemanly young man. 

Immediately upon leaving college, he entered the law-office of 
Mr. Wythe, one of the most distinguished lawyers of the State. 
Mr. Jefferson was then not twenty-one years of age. But there 
was something in his culture, his commanding character, and his 
dignified yet courteous deportment, which gave him position with 
men far his seniors in age and his superiors in rank. The Eng¬ 
lish governor of the colony, Francis Fauquier, was a man of great 
elegance of manners, whose mansion was the home of a very 
generous hospitality. He had three especial frienjs who often 
met, forming a select circle at his table. These were the eminent 
counsellor, George Wythe; Hr. Small, a Scotch clergyman, one 
of the most distinguished professors in the college; and Thomas 
Jefferson. It is said that that polish of manners which distin¬ 
guished Mr. Jefferson through life was acquired in this society. 

In the law-office he continued his habits of intense application 


100 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


to study. In the winter, he rose punctually at five o’clock. In 
the summer, as soon as, in the first gray of the morning, he could 
discern the hands of the clock in his room, he sprang from his 
bed. At nine o’clock in summer he retired; at ten o’clock in 
winter. His vacations at Shadwell consisted only of a change 
of place : there was no abatement of study. His politeness to all 
shielded him from incivility, and he never became engaged in aii}' 
personal rencounter. Gambling he so thoroughly detested, that 
he never learned to distinguish one card from another. Ardent 
spirits he never drank, tobacco in any form he never used, and he 
was never heard to utter an oath. 

He was fond of music, and had studied it both practically and 
as a science. Architecture, painting, and sculpture had attracted 
so much of his attention, that he was esteemed one of the best oi 
critics in the fine arts. The accurate knowledge he had acquired 
of French was of immense use to him in his subsequent diplo¬ 
matic labors. He read Spanish, and could both write and speak 
the Italian. The Anglo-Saxon he studied as the root of the Eng¬ 
lish, regarding it as an important element in legal philology. 
Thus furnished, he went forth to act his part in life’s great 
conflict. 

While a student at law, he heard Patrick Henry, who had sud¬ 
denly burst forth as Virginia’s most eloquent orator, make one of 
his spirit-moving speeches against the Stamp Act. It produced 
an impression upon Jefferson’s mind which was never effaced. 
In 1767, he entered upon the practice of the law. His thor¬ 
oughly disciplined mind, ample stores of knowledge, and polished 
address, were rapidly raising him to distinction, when the out¬ 
break of the Revolution caused the general abandonment of the 
courts of justice, and introduced him to loftier spheres of respon¬ 
sibility, and to action in an arena upon which the eyes of the civil 
ized world were concentrated. 

Jefferson, though so able with his pen, was not distinguished as 
a public speaker. He seldom ventured to take any part in debate. 
Still, wherever he appeared, he produced a profound impression 
as a deep thinker, an accurate reasoner, and a man of enlarged 
and statesman-like views. 

He had been but a short time admitted to the bar ere he was 
chosen by his fellow-citizens to a seat in the Legislature of Vir¬ 
ginia. This was in 1769. Jefferson was then the largest slave- 


THOMAS JEFFERSON. 


101 


holder in the house. It is a remarkable evidence of his foresight, 
his moral courage, and the love of liberty which then inspired 
him, that he introduced a bill empowering slaveholders to manumit 
their slaves if they wished to do so. Slavery caught the alarm. 
The proposition was rejected by an overwhelming vote. 

In 1770, Mr. Jefferson’s house at Shad well was burned to the 
ground; and his valuable library, consisting of two thousand vol¬ 
umes, disappeared in the flames. He was absent from home at 
the time. A slave came to him with the appalling news. But 
were none of my books saved ? ” exclaimed Mr. Jefferson. “ None,” 
was the reply; and then the face of the music-loving negro grew 
radiant as he added, But, massa, we saved the fiddle.” In after- 
years, when the grief of the irreparable loss was somewhat as¬ 
suaged, Mr. Jefferson was in the habit of relating this anecdote 
with much glee. 

He had inherited an estate of nearly two thousand acres of 
land, which he soon increased to five thousand acres. His income 
from this land, tilled by about fifty slaves, and from his practice 
at the bar, amounted to five thousand dollars a year, — a large 
sum in those times. 

In 1772, he married Mrs. Martha Skelton, a very beautiful, 
wealthy, and highly accomplished young widow. She brought to 
him, as her munificent dowry, forty thousand acres of land, and 
one hundred and thirty-five slaves. He thus became one of the 
largest slaveholders in Virginia: and yet he labored with all his 
energies for the abolition of slavery; declaring the institution to 
be a curse to the master, a curse to the slave, and an offence in 
the sight of God. 

Upon Mr. Jefferson’s large estate at Shad well, there was a ma¬ 
jestic swell of land, called Monticello, which commanded a pros¬ 
pect of wonderful extent and beauty. This spot Mr. Jefferson 
selected for his new home; and here he reared a mansion of mod¬ 
est yet elegant architecture, which, next to Mount Vernon, became 
the most distinguished resort in our land. His wedding, which 
took place at the house of John Wayles, the father of the bride, 
who resided at a seat called ‘‘ The Forest,” in Charles-city Cou.ity, 
was celebrated with much splendor. It was a long ride in their 
carriage, along the Valley of the James, to their secluded home 
among the mountains of Albemarle County. It was the month of 
January. As they drew near the hills, the ground was whitened 


102 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


with snow, which increased in depth as they advanced, until, 
when in the evening they were entering the mountains, they 
found the road so obstructed, that they were compelled to leave 
their carriage at a dilapidated house, and mount their horses. 
It was a cold winter’s night. The snow was two feet deep along 
the mountain-track which they were now threading. Late at 
night, shivering and weary, they reached the summit of the hill, 
nearly six hundred feet above the level of the stream at its base. 

Here a gloomy reception awaited them. There were no lights 
in the house: all the fires were out. The slaves were soundly 
asleep in their cabins. But youth and prosperity and love could 
convert this “ horrible dreariness ” into an occasion of mirth and 
fun and laughter. 

With his large estates, and his retinue of servants, Mr. Jeffer¬ 
son could afford to indulge in the luxury of magnificent horses. 
He usually kept half a dozen high-blooded brood-mares. He was 
very particular about his saddle-horse. It is said that, when quite 
a young man, if there was a spot on the horse, when led out, which 
would soil a linen handkerchief, the groom was sure of a severe 
reprimand. 

There was, about this time, a British vessel, “ The Gaspee,” sta¬ 
tioned in Narragansett Bay to enforce the revenue-laws. The 
insolence of its officers had led, in June, 1772, to its being de¬ 
coyed aground, and burned. The British Government retaliated 
by passing a law that the wilful destruction of the least thing 
belonging to the navy should be punishable with death. At the 
same time, a court of inquiry was sent over to try those impli¬ 
cated in the “ Gaspee ” affair, or to send them to England for trial 
should they choose to do so. 

Some very spirited resolutions were immediately drawn up by 
Thomas Jefferson, appointing a standing committee to obtain the 
earliest intelligence of all proceedings in England with regard to 
the colonies, and by communicating this knowledge, in correspond¬ 
ence with the sister colonies, to prepare for united action in op¬ 
posing any infringement of colonial rights. This was the intent 
of the resolutions. They were so skilfully worded, that even the 
moderate party could not refuse to vote for them. But the then 
governor, the Earl of Dunmore, manifested his displeasure by im¬ 
mediately dissolving the house. The committee, however, met 
the next day, sent a copy of the resolutions to the other colonies, 


THOMAS JEFFERSON. 


103 


and requested them to appoint a committee to correspond with 
the Virginia committee. Though Massachusetts had two years 
before made a similar movement, for some unexplained reason the 
measure did not go into action ; and Jefferson is justly entitled to 
the honor of having put into operation the Committees of Cor¬ 
respondence,'^ which afterwards became so potent in resisting the 
encroachments of the British crown. 

When the British cabinet, in 1774, enacted the Boston Port 
Bill, shutting up the harbor, and thus dooming Boston to ruin, 
Mr. Jefferson and a few of-his associates met, and, as a measure 
to rouse the people of all the colonies to sympathetic action with 
Massachusetts, drew up some resolutions, appointing a day of 
fasting and prayer “ to implore Heaven to avert from us the evil 
of civil war, to inspire us with firmness in support of our rights, 
and to turn the hearts of the king and parliament to moderation 
and justice." Mr. Nichols, a man of grave and religious charac¬ 
ter, moved the resolutions; and they were adopted without opposi¬ 
tion. The governor was so irritated, that hd dissolved the house, 
declaring that the measure ^‘was a high reflection upon his 
Majesty and the Parliament of Great Britain." 

The members of the Colonial Court, after the dissolution, met in 
association, received into their number several clergymen and 
private citizens, denounced the course of England, declared it 
unpatriotic to purchase any of the articles which she had taxed, 
avowed that they considered an attack on one colony an attack on 
all, and recommended a General Annual Congress. This was in 
the spring of 1774. Thomas Jefferson, Patrick Henry, and the 
two Lees, were the active agents in this important movement. 
The clergy entered into the measures with earnest patriotism. 
The day of prayer was almost universally observed with appro¬ 
priate discourses. Mr. Jefferson writes, “ The effect of the day 
through the whole colony was like a shock of electricity, arousing 
every man, and placing him erect and solidly on ftis centre." 

Mr. Jefferson was now very thoroughly aroused; and he was 
busy with voice and pen in the assertion, that the American colo¬ 
nies had a right to govern themselves through their own legisla¬ 
tures. He wrote a pamphlet entitled “A Summary View of the 
Rights of British America." It attracted so much attention, that 
it was published in several editions in England. The British had 
now unsheathed the sword at Lexington, and Jefferson was in 


104 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


favor of decisive measures. His pen was ever active, and every 
line that came from it was marked with power. 

At the meeting of the second convention of Virginia, in March, 
1775, the resolution was adopted, earnestly advocated by Jeffer¬ 
son, to put the colony into a state of defence by embodying, arm¬ 
ing, and disciplining a sufficient number of men. George Wash¬ 
ington and Thomas Jefferson were on the committee to carry 
thes(^ resolutions into effect. 

On the 11th of June, 1775, Mr. Jefferson left Williamsburg to 
take his seat in the Colonial Congress at Philadelphia. He trav¬ 
elled in a phaeton, leading two spare horses; and was ten days in 
making a journey which can now be accomplished in as-many 
hours. The roads were so intricate and unfrequented, that, at 
times, he had to hire guides. Congress had been in session six 
weeks when he arrived; and he was the youngest member in the 
body but one. His reputation as a writer had preceded him; and 
he immediately took a conspicuous stand, though he seldom spoke. 
John Adams, in his autobiography, alluding to the favorable im¬ 
pression which Mr. Jefferson made, writes,— 

“ Though a silent member in Congress, he was so prompt, frank, 
explicit, and decisive upon committees and in conversation' (not 
even Samuel Adams was more so), that he soon seized upon my 
heart.’^ 

Blunt, brave-hearted, magnanimous, John Adams could not brook 
opposition, and he was ever involved in quarrels. The impetuous, 
fiery debater, is, of course, more exposed to this than the careful 
writer who ponders the significance of every word. The native 
suavity of Jefferson, his modesty, and the frankness and force 
with which he expressed his views, captivated his opponents. It 
is said that he had not an enemy in Congress. In five days after 
he had taken his seat, he was appointed on a committee to pre¬ 
pare an address on the causes of taking up arms. The produc- 
.tion was mainly from his pen. It was one of the most popular 
documents ever written, and was greeted with enthusiasm from 
the pulpit and in the market-place. It was read at the head of 
the armies amidst the booming of cannon and the huzzas of the 
soldiers. Yet Thomas Jefferson suffered the reputation of the 
authorship to rest with one of his associates on the committee all 
his life long. It was only after the death of both Jefferson and 
Pickinson that the real author of the documont was publicly 


THOMAS JEFFERSON. 


10b 


known. These traits of character which are thus developed, one 
after another, surely indicate a very noble and extraordinary man. 
It is a remarkable fact, that decided as he was in his views, never 
dn the slightest degree a trimmer, he won the confidence and the 
affection both of the most radical men of the progressive party, 
md the most cautious of the conservatives. John Adams on the 
o\e side, and John Dickinson on the other, were warm personal 
friends of Thomas Jefferson. 

^on after this, on the 22d of July, a committee, consisting of 
Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, and Richard 
H. Lee, were appointed to report on Lord North^s ^‘conciliatory 
proposition.” Jefferson, the youngest member in the house, was 
chosen by these illustrious colleagues to draught the paper. 

Even as late as the autumn of 1775, Mr. Jefferson was hoping 
for reconciliation with England. In a letter to Mr. Randolph, who 
had sided with the British, and was about to sail for England, he 
wrote,— 

“ I am sincerely one of those who still wish for re-union with 
the parent country; and would rather be in dependence on Great 
Britain, properly limited, than on any nation upon earth, or than 
on no nation. But I am one of those too, who, rather than sub¬ 
mit to the rights of legislating for us assumed by the British Par¬ 
liament, and which late experience has shown they will so cruelly 
exercise, would lend my hand to sink the whole island in the 
ocean.” 

Three months after this, roused by the ferocity which the Brit¬ 
ish ministry were displaying, he wrote to the same man, then in 
England, in tones of almost prophetic solemnity' and indigna. 
tion: — 

“Believe me, dear sir, there is not in the British Empire a man 
who more cordially loves a union with Great Britain than I do: 
but, by the God that made me, I will cease to exist before I yield 
to a connection on such terms as the British Parliament propose; 
and in this I think I speak the sentiments of America.” 

At length, the hour came for draughting the “ Declaration of In¬ 
dependence.” The responsible task was committed to the pen of 
Jefferson. Franklin and Adams suggested a few verbal correc- 
tions before it was submitted to Congress. The immortal docu¬ 
ment was presented to the Congress on the 28th of June, 1776, 
and was adopted and signed on the 4th of July. The Declaration 

14 


106 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


passed a fiery ordeal of criticism. For three days, the debate 
continued. Mr. Jefferson opened not his lips. John Adams,it 
has been-said, “ was the great champion of the Declaration on the 
fioor, fighting fearlessly for every word of it, and with a power 
to which a mind masculine and impassioned in its conceptions, t 
will of torrent-like force, a heroism which only glared forth mo^e 
luridly at the approach of danger, and a patriotism whose burnbg 
throb was rather akin to the feeling of a parent fighting over his 
offspring than to the colder sentiment of tamer minds, lent resist¬ 
less sway.’^ 

The comic and the tragic, the sublime and the ridiculous, are , 
ever blended in this world. One may search all the ages to find * 
a more.solemn, momentous event than the signing of the Decla¬ 
ration of Independence. It was accompanied with prayer to 
Almighty God. Silence pervaded the .room as one after another 
affixed his name to that document, which brought down upon him 
the implacable hate of the mightiest power upon The globe, and 
which doomed him inevitably to the scaffold, should the feeble 
colonies fail in the unequal struggle. In the midst of this scene, 
Benjamin Harrison, a Virginia grandee of immense corpulence, 
weighing something like a third of a ton, looked down upon Mr. 
Gerry, a small, fragile, slender man, whom a breath of wind 
would almost blow away, and remarked, with a characteristic 
chuckle, — 

“ Gerry, when the hanging comeSy I shall have the advantage. 
You’ll kick in the air half an hour after it is all over with me.” 

The colonies were now independent States. Jefferson resigned 
for a time his seat in Congress to aid in organizing the govern¬ 
ment of Virginia. Here we first meet in public with a young 
man — James Madison — of refined culture, of polished address, 
of keen powers of reasoning, of spotless purity of character, with 
whose name the future of the nation became intimately blended. 

In 1779, Mr. Jefferson was chosen Governor of Virginia. He 
was then thirty-six years of age. The British were now prepar¬ 
ing to strike their heaviest blows upon Georgia and the Caro- 
linas. Establishing themselves in those thinly populated States, 
they intended thence to march resistlessly towards the North. A 
proclamation was also issued declaring the intention of Great 
Britain*to devastate the colonies as utterly as possible, that, in the 
event of the success of the Revolution, they might prove value 


THOMAS JEFFERSON. 


107 


less to France, who had become our ally. When Jeffersgn took 
the chair of state, Georgia had fallen helpless into the hands 
of the foe; South Carolina was invaded, and Charleston threat¬ 
ened ; the savages on the Ohio and the Mississippi, provided 
with British arms, and often led by British oflScers, were perpe- • 
trating horrid outrages on our frontiers. 

In these trying hours, Mr. Jefferson, with all the energies of his 
mind and heart, sustained Gen. Washington, ever ready to sacri¬ 
fice all local interests for the general cause. At one time, the 
British officer, Tarleton, sent a secret expedition to Montioello to 
capture the governor. Scarcely five minutes elapsed, after the 
hurried escape of Mr. Jefferson and his family, ere his mansion 
was in the possession of the British troops. Mr. Jefferson had a 
plantation at Elk Hill, opposite Elk Island, on the James River. A 
detachment of the army of Cornwallis, in their march north from 
the Carolinas, seized it. The foe destroyed all his crops, burnt 
his barns and fences, drove off the cattle, seized the serviceable 
horses, cut the throats of the colts, and left the whole plantation 
a smouldering, blackened waste. Twenty-seven slaves were also 
carried off. Had he carried off the slaves,” says Jefferson with 
characteristic magnanimity, ^^to give them freedom, he would 
have done right.” A large number of these slaves died of putrid 
fever, then raging in the British camp. Of all this, Mr. Jefferson 
never uttered a complaint. 

In September, 1776, Congress had chosen Franklin, Jefferson, 
and Silas Deane, commissioners to negotiate treaties of alliance 
and commerce with France. Jefferson declined the appointment, 
as he deemed it necessary that he should remain at home to assist 
in the organization of the State Government of Virginia. As gov¬ 
ernor, he had rendered invaluable service to the common cause. 
He was now, in June, 1781, again appointed to co-operate with 
Adams, Franklin, Jay, and Laurens, in Europe, as ministers pleni¬ 
potentiary to treat for peace; but the exceedingly delicate state 
of Mrs. Jefferson’s health, who had suffered terribly from anxiety, 
exposure, and grief, and who was so frail that it would have been 
the extreme of cruelty to expose her and her two surviving chil¬ 
dren to the peril of capture by British ships then covering the 
ocean, or to leave her at home separated from her husband, while 
Tarleton, with savage ferocity, was sweeping the State in aD 
directions, rendered it clearly his duty again to decline. 


108 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


About this time he was thrown from his horse, and quite seri¬ 
ously injured. This accident, and the sickness of his wife, confined 
him to his secluded forest home for several months. He improved 
the hours in writing his celebrated “ Notes on Virginia.’^ The 
work attracted much attention; was republished, in England and 
France, and introduced his name favorably to the philosophers of 
the Continent. It is still a perplexing question how it was possi¬ 
ble for Mr. Jefferson, in those days when Virginia was in many 
parts almost an unexplored wilderness, ranged by Indians, with 
scarcely any roads, to have obtained the vast amount of minute 
and accurate information which he has presented in these Notes. 
The whole is written in a glowing style of pure and undefiled 
English, which often soars to the eloquent. 

But man is born to mourn. In every life, there come days 
which are ‘‘ cold and dark and dreary.’’ It was now the latter 
part of the year 1781. Jefferson, like Washington, was exces¬ 
sively sensitive to reproach; while at the same time both of these 
illustrious men possessed that noble nature which induced them 
to persevere in the course which seemed to be right, notwith¬ 
standing all the sufferings which calumny could heap upon them. 
A party rose in Virginia, dissatisfied with the course Jefferson had 
pursued in his attempt to repel the invaders of the State. They 
tried to drive him from his office, crush his reputation, and raise a 
dictator to occupy his place. The indignity pierced him to the 
quick. He was too proud to enter upon a defence of himself. 
His wife, one of the most lovely and loving of Christian ladies, 
and to whom he was attached with a romance of affection never 
exceeded, was-sinking away in lingering death. There was no 
hope of her recovery. The double calamity of a pitiless storm of 
vituperation out of doors, and a dying wife within, so affected his 
spirits, that he resolved to retire from public life, and to spend the 
remainder of his days in the quietude of his desolated home. It 
was indeed a gloomy day which was now settling down around 
him. 

He had been pursued like a felon, from place to place, by the 
British soldiery. His property had been wantonly and brutally 
destroyed. Many of his slaves whom he loved, and whose freedom 
he was laboring to secure, had perished miserably. He was suf¬ 
fering from severe personal injuries caused by the fall from his 
horse. His wife was dying, and his good name was fiercely 
assailed. 


TBOMAS JEFFERSON. 


109 


Mrs. Jefferson was a Christian, a loving disciple of the Re¬ 
deemer. But there were no cheering Christian hopes to.sustain 
the sinking heart of her husband; for he had many doubts respect¬ 
ing the truth of Christianity. He must often have exclaimed in 
anguish of spirit, Oh that I could believe I The poison of 
scepticism had been early instilled into his nature; and in these 
hours of earthly gloom he had no faith, no hope, to support him. 
Happy is he, who, in such seasons of sorrow, can by faith' hear 
a Saviour’s voice whispering to him, Let not your heart be 
troubled.” Beautifully has Jefferson’s biographer, Mr. Randall, 
said, in describing these scenes,— 

The faithful daughter, of the Church had no dread of the here¬ 
after ; but she yearned to remain with her husband, with that 
yearning which seems to have power to retard even the ap¬ 
proaches of death. Her eyes were rested on him, ever followed 
him. When he spoke, no other sound could reach her ear or 
attract her attention. When she waked from slumber, she looked 
momentarily alarmed and distressed, and even appeared to be 
frightened, if the customary form was not bending over her, the 
customary look upon her.” 

For weeks, Mr. Jefferson sat lovingly, but with a crushed heart, 
at that bedside. Unfeeling letters were sent to him, accusing him 
of weakness, of unfaithfulness to duty, in thus secluding himself 
at home, and urging him again to come forth to life’s great battle. 
For four months, Jefferson was never beyond the call of his dying- 
wife. No woman could have proved a more tender nurse. He 
seemed unwilling that any one else should administer to her medi- 
cine and drink. When not at her bedside, he 'vms writing in a 
closet which opened at the head of her bed. She died on the 6th 
of September, 1782. Who can imagine the anguish which a warm¬ 
hearted man must feel in witnessing the death of a wife whom he 
loved almost to adoration, and unsustained by that hope of re-union 
in heaven which a belief in Christianity confers ? His distress 
was so terrible, that his friends were compelled to lead him from 
the room, almost in a state of insensibility, before the scene was 
closed. With difficulty they conveyed him into the library. He 
fainted entirely away, and remained so long insensible, that it was 
feared he never would recover. His eldest daughter, Mrs. Ran¬ 
dolph, writes,— 

The violence of his emotion, when almost by stealth I entered 


110 


LIVES OF TEE PRESIDENTS. 


his room at night, to this daj I dare not trust myself to describe. 
He kept his room three weeks, and I was never a moment from 
his side. He walked almost incessantly night and day; only 
lying down occasionally, when nature was completely exhausted, 
on a pallet which had been brought in during his long fainting-fit. 
When, at last, he left his room, he rode out; and from that time 
he was incessantly on horseback, rambling about the mountain, in 
the least-frequented roads, and just as often through the woods. 
In those melancholy rambles, I was his constant companion ] a soli¬ 
tary witness to many violent bursts of grief, the remembrance of 
which has consecrated particular scenes of that lost home beyond 
the power of time‘to obliterate.’’ 

The inscription which the philosopher, uncheered by Christian 
&ith, placed upon the gravestone of his companion, one cannot 
but read with sadness. It was a quotation, in Greek, from the 

Iliad,” of the apostrophe of Achilles over the dead body of Hec¬ 
tor. The lines are thus freely translated by Pope : — 

“ If, in the melancholy shades below, 

The flames of friends and lovers cease to glow. 

Yet mine shall sacred last; mine, undecayed. 

Burn on through death, and animate my shade.” 

Without the light which Christianity gives, death is, indeed, tho 
king of terrors, and the grave retains its victory. Forty-four 
years after the death of Mrs. Jefferson, there were found in a 
secret drawer in a private cabinet, to which he frequently re¬ 
sorted, locks of hair, and various other little souvenirs of his wife, 
with words of endearment upon the envelopes. He never married 
again. This tenderness of affection in this man of imperial mind 
and inflexible resolve is 'one of the most marked traits of his 
character. 

The English ministry were now getting tired of the war. The 
opposition in Parliament had succeeded in carrying a resolution 
on the 4th of March, 1782, ‘‘ That all those who should advise, or 
by any means attempt, the further prosecution of offensive war iu 
America, should be considered as enemies to their king and coun¬ 
try.” This popular decision overcame the obstinacy of the king, 
and he was compelled to make overtures for peace. Mr. Jefferson 
was re-appointed on the 12th of November by Congress, unani¬ 
mously, and without a single adverse remark, minister plenipoten¬ 
tiary to negotiate a treaty. 


THOMAS JEFFERSON. 


Ill 


Alluding to this, he writes to a friend, “Your letter found me 
a little emerging from the stupor of mind which had rendered me 
as dead to the world as she whose loss occasioned it. Before that 
event, my scheme of life had been determined. I had folded my¬ 
self in the arms of retirement, and rested all prospects of future 
happiness on domestic and literary objects. In this stats of mind, 
an appointment from Congress found me, requiring me to cross 
the Atlantic.’’ 

There were various and complicated obstacles in the way of his 
departure; while, in the mean time, the treaty of peace was effect¬ 
ed, and it became unnecessary for him to go upon that mission. 
Those who had assailed him had withdrawn their accusations, and 
legislative enactment had done justice to his career. He was 
again elected to Congress. At this period, he wrote many affec¬ 
tionate letters to his daughters, who were then at school. These 
letters reveal the heart of a watchful and loving father. Martha, 
who was at school at Annapolis, had been disturbed by some pre¬ 
dictions respecting the speedy end of the world. He writes to 
her,— 

“As to preparations for that event, the best way for you is to 
be always prepared for it. The only way to be so is never to do 
or say a bad thing. If ever you are about to say any thing amiss, or 
to do any thing wrong, consider beforehand. You will feel some¬ 
thing within you which will tell you it is wrong, and ought not to 
be said or done. This is your conscience, and be sure to obey. 
Our Maker has given us all this faithful internal monitor; and, if 
you always obey it, you will always be prepared for the end of the 
world, or for a much more certain event, — which is death. This 
must happen to all. It puts an end to the world as to us; and 
the way to be ready for it is never to do a wrong act.” 

Her sainted Christian mother would have added to this most 
excellent advice, “And, my dear child, pray night and morning 
to your heavenly Father that he will help you to do right, and to 
resist temptation to do wrong. And, when you feel your own 
unworthiness, do not be disheartened. God is a loving Father. 
He has given his Son to die for us; and, sinners as we all are, we 
can be forgiven if we repent, and trust in him.” 

In March, 1784, Mr. Jefferson was appointed on a committee to 
draught a plan for the government of that immense region called 
the North-western Territory. ‘The draught , is still preserved in 


112 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


his handwriting in Washington. True to his unwavering princi¬ 
ple of devotion to the rights of humanity, he inscribed in the 
ordinance the provision, That, after the year 1800 of the Chris¬ 
tian era, there shall be neither slavery nor involuntary servitude 
in any of the said States, otherwise than in punishment of crimes 
whereof the party shall have been duly convicted to have been 
personally guilty.’^ This clause was stricken out by motion of 
Mr. Spaight of North Carolina, seconded by Mr. Read of South 
Carolina. 

Mr. Jefferson had wonderful power of winning men to his 
opinions, while he scrupulously avoided all controversy. The 
following extract from a letter to his grandson brings clearly to 
light this trait in his character: — 

‘‘In stating prudential rules for our government in society, I 
must not omit the important one of never entering into dispute or 
argument with another. I never yet saw an instance of one of 
two disputants convincing the other by argument. I have seen 
many of them getting warm, becoming rude, and shooting one 
another. Conviction is the effect of our own dispassionate rear 
ioning, either in solitude, or weighing within ourselves dispas¬ 
sionately what we hear from others, standing uncommitted in 
argument ourselves. It was one of the rules, which, above all 
others, made Dr. Franklin the most amiable of men in society, 
‘never to contradict anybody.”^ 

Jefferson was by nature a gentleman,—affable, genial, courteous, 
considerate to the poor. Thus he was a great favorite with alD 
who knew him. Stormy as were the times in which he lived, he 
never got into a personal altercation with any one, never gave or 
received a challenge, and was never known to encounter a per¬ 
sonal insult. 

In May, 1784, Congress appointed Mr. Jefferson to act as minister 
plenipotentiary with Mr. Adams and Dr. Franklin in negotiating 
treaties of commerce with foreign nations. Leaving two daugh¬ 
ters with their maternal aunt, one six years of age, and the other 
a frail babe of two years, who soon died, he took his eldest daugh¬ 
ter Martha with him, and sailed for Europe on the 5th of July 
from Boston. After a delightful voyage, he reached Paris on the 
6th of August. Here he placed his daughter at school, and, meet¬ 
ing his colleagues at Passy, engaged vigorously with them in ac- 
©omplishing the object of his mission. Dr. Franklin, now aged 


TUOMAS JEFFERSON. 


113 


and infirm, obtained permission to return home from his embassy 
to France. Ilis genial character, combined with his illustrious 
merit, had won the love of the French people; and he was 
unboundedly popular with both peasant and prince. Such atten¬ 
tions were lavished upon him in his journey from Paris to the 
coast, that it was almost an ovation. It was, indeed, a delicate 
matter to step into the position which had been occupied by Oxie 
so enthusiastically admired. Few men could have done this so 
gracefully as did Jefferson. 

“ You replace M. Franklin, I hear,” said the celebrated French 
minister, the Count de Vergennes. ‘‘I succeed him,” was the 
promjDt reply: “ no man can replace him.” 

The French officers who had served in America had carried 
back glowing reports of Mr. Jefferson, as the accomplished gen¬ 
tleman, the brilliant scholar and philosopher, and the profound 
statesman. One of his noble visitors, the Count Chastellux, had 
written a graphic account of his elegant mountain-home, amidst 
the sublime solitudes of the Alleghanies, where, from his veranda, 
he looked down upon countless leagues of the primeval forest, and 
where the republican senator administered the rites of hospitality 
with grace which would have adorned the saloons of Versailles. 
Jefferson and Franklin were kindred spirits. They were both on 
the most friendly terms with the French minister. 

found the Count de Vergennes,” writes Mr. Jefferson, “as 
frank, as honorable, as easy of access to reason, as any man with 
whom 1 had ever done business.” 

Even Mr. Adams’s dogmatic spirit was mollified by the urbanity 
of his colleague, and the most sincere attachment existed between 
them. Jilrs. Adams, who stood upon the highest platform of moral 
excellence, and who was a keen judge of character, was charmed 
with Mr. Jefferson, and wrote to her sister that he was “ the chosen 
of the earth.” 

His saloon was ever crowded with the choicest society of Paris. 
If any distinguished stranger came to the gay metropolis, he was 
sure to find his way to the hotel of the American ambassador. No 
foreign minister, with the exception of Franklin, was ever so 
caressed before. The gentleness and refinement of French man- 
ners possessed great charms for one of his dejicate and sensitive 
nature. “ Here,” he wrote, “ it seems that a man might pass his 
life without encountering a single rudeness.” 

15 


114 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


Still he was very much opposed to Americans going to Europe 
tor an education. He said that they were in danger of acquiring 
a fondness for European luxury and dissipation, and would look 
with contempt upon the simplicity of their own country; that 
they would be fascinated by the privileges enjoyed by the aris¬ 
tocracy | that they would lose that perfect command of their own 
language which can never be acquired if neglected during the 
period between fifteen and twenty years of age. It appears to 
me, then,” he says, that an American coming to Europe for edu¬ 
cation loses in his knowledge, in his morals, in his health, in his 
habits, and in his happiness.” 

Mr. Jefierson occupied in Paris a very fine house on the Champs 
Elysees he had also taken some rooms in the Carthusian monas¬ 
tery, on Mount Calvary. When business pressed him, he would 
retire, avid bury himself for a time in the unbroken solitude of 
this retreat. He was deeply impressed with the degradation and 
oppression of the great mass of the French people; and his 
detestation of the execrable government under which France 
groaned increased every day. As he pondered the misery into 
which twenty millions of people were plunged through that terri¬ 
ble despotism which had been the slow growth of ages, and which 
placed all the wealth, honor, and power of the realm in the hands 
of a few noble families, he often expressed the conviction, which 
was ever after the first article in his political creed, that our lib¬ 
erties could never be safe unless they were placed in the hands 
of the masses of the people, and those people were well edu¬ 
cated. 

In France, he found universally kind and respectful feelings 
towards our country. The philosophers and all the thinkers were 
charmed with the new era of republican liberty which we had 
introduced; and even the court, gratified that we had been the 
instrument of humbling the intolerable arrogance of Great Britain, 
was ever ready to greet with words of most cordial welcome 
the representatives of. the United States. There never has been 
a story more falsely told, never a perversion of history more 
thorough, than the usual representations which have been made 
of the French Revolution, — the most sublime conflict, the most 
wonderful tragedy,, of all the ages. The combined despotic courts 
of Europe endeavored to crush the people in their despairing 
struggle to shake off the fetters which had eaten through the 


THOMAS JEFFERSON. 


115 


flesh to the bone; and then, having fastened the fetters on again 
and riveted them anew, the hireling advocates of these despotisms 
gave their own-base version of the story to the world. 

In the despairing hours of this conflict, the French people weie 
at times driven to such frenzy as to lose all self-control. The 
spirit with which they were assailed maddened them. Kings 
and queens,wrote an Austrian princess, should no more heed 
the clamors of the people than the moon heeds the barking of 
dogs.’' The sympathies of Jefferson were always with the people 
struggling for popular rights; never with those struggling to 
crush those rights. In March, 1786, he went to London with Mr. 
Adams to negotiate a treaty of commerce. His sensitive nature 
keenly felt the insulting coldness of his reception. On my pres¬ 
entation as usual to the king and queen,” he writes, it was im- 
possibFe for any thing to be more ungracious than their notice of 
Mr. Adams and myself.” Speaking of the delicacy of his mental 
organization, the Hon. Mr. Coles of Philadelphia, a life-long friend 
of Jefferson, writes, “He not only could never enter on any free¬ 
dom in manners or conversation himself, but any approach to a 
broad one in his presence made him literally blush like a boy.” 

His sympathies with France were increased by the conviction, 
which he never hesitated to avow, that, but for the aid which we 
derived from that country, we never could have gained our inde¬ 
pendence. In a letter written about this time, he gives the fol¬ 
lowing as his estimate of the character of his illustrious colleague, 
John Adams: — 

“ You know the opinion I formerly entertained of my friend 
Mr. Adams. A se’^en-months' intimacy with him here, and as 
many weeks in London, have given me opportunities of studying 
him closely. He is vain, irritable, and a bad calculator of the 
force and probable effect of the motives which govern men. This 
is all the ill which can possibly be said of him. He is as disinter¬ 
ested as the Being who made him. He is profound in his views, 
and accurate in his judgment, except wliere knowledge of the 
world is necessary to found judgment. He is so amiable, that I 
pronounce you will love him if ever you become acquainted with 
him. He would be, as he was, a great man in Congress.” 

Jefferson was present at the opening of the Assembly of Nota¬ 
bles, at Versailles, on the 22d of February, 1787. Soon after, he 
v/i-ote to Lafayette, “Keeping the good model of your neighbor- 


116 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


ing country before your eyes, you may yet get on, step by step, 
towards a good constitution. Though that model is not perfect, 
as it would unite more suffrages than any new one which could 
be proposed, it is better to make that the object. If every ad¬ 
vance is to be purchased by filling the royal coffers with gold, it 
will be gold well employed.” 

This was the plan of Lafayette and his coadjutors to establish 
popular rights in France under a monarchy framed on the model 
of the British Constitution. Jefferson agreed -with these men in 
their wish to maintain the monarchical form of government, as the 
best for them. But he would surround it with republican institu¬ 
tions. He had great influence with all the patriot leaders, and was 
frequently consulted by them in their most important measures. 
While engaged in these matters of national interest, he wrote to 
his daughters, and watched over them with truly feminine tender¬ 
ness. He was a mother as well as a father to them. His letters 
were filled with affection, and entered into the most minute details 
of the practical rules of life. To Jiis, daughter, who wished to 
incur somie slight debt, he wrote,— ’ ' 

“ This is a departure from that rule which I wish to see you 
governed by through your whole life,—of nev-^r buying any thing 
which you have not money in your pocket to pay for. Be assured 
that it gives much more pain to the mind to be in debt, than to do 
without any article whatever which we may se^ra to want.” 

It i-s the concurrent testimony of his childr«c>u and grandchil¬ 
dren, that, in all his domestic relations, he was one of the most 
amiable of men; never speaking a harsh word, n-^ver manifesting 
sullenness or anger or irritation. His daughter Martha, one of the 
most accomplished of ladies, writes, Never, never did I witness a 
particle of injustice in my father. Never have I heard 'him say 
a word, or seen him do an act, which I, at the time or afterwards, 
regretted. We venerated him as something wiser and better than 
other men. He seemed to know every thing,—even the thoughts 
of our minds, and all our untold wishes. We wondered that we 
did not fear him; and yet we did not, any more than we did com¬ 
panions of our own age.” In all their joys, in all their griefs, 
these motherless girls ran to their father. Never was there a 
more beautiful exhibition of the parental tie. 

All the honors which Mr. Jefferson received seemed to produce 
no change in the simplicity of his republican tastes. To one of 
the friends of ,his early years he wrote at this time, — 


THOMAS JEFFERSON. 


117 


There are minds which can be pleased by honors and prefer, 
ments; but I see nothing in them but envy and enmity. It is 
only necessary to possess them to know how little they contribute 
to happiness, or rather how hostile they are to it. I had rather be 
shut up in a very modest cottage with my books, my family, and 
a few old friends, dining on simple bacon, and letting the world 
roll on as it liked, than to occupy the most splendid post which 
any human power can give.’^ 

And now the king’s troops, with clattering cavalry and lumber¬ 
ing artillery, came pouring into the streets of Paris to crush the 
patriots. No reform was to be permitted, no constitution to be 
allowed. The cry of perishing millions, ragged, starving, was to 
be answered with the sword, the musket, and the cannon. Mr. 
Jefferson, in his carriage, chanced to witness the first collision 
between the royal troops and the people in the Place of Louis 
XV. It is difficult to turn away from the sublime and tremendous 
• scenes which now ensued; but this brief sketch compels us to 
omit them all. The demolition of the Bastille; the rush of Paris 
upon Versailles; the capture of the king and queen, and their 
transportation to the Tuileries ; the attempted flight, arrest, 
trial, imprisonment, execution, — where is there to be found 
another such drama in the annals of time? Jefferson thought, 
that, could the weak but kind-hearted king have been left to him¬ 
self, he would in good faith have accepted and carried out the 
contemplated reforms. 

Amidst these stormy scenes, the National Assembly conferred 
the unprecedented compliment upon Mr. Jefferson of inviting him 
to attend and assist in their deliberations; but he felt constrained 
to decline the honor, as his sense of delicacy would not allow 
him to take such a part in the internal transactions of a country to 
whose court he was a recognized ambassador. One day he re¬ 
ceived a note from Lafayette, informing him that he should bring 
a party of six or eight friends to ask a dinner of him the next 
day. They came, — Lafayette, and seven of the leading patriots, 
the representatives of different parties in the Assembly. The 
cloth being removed, after dinner, Lafayette introduced the object 
of the meeting, remarking that it was necessary to combine their 
energies, or all was lost. The conference continued for six hours, 
— from four in the afternoon until ten at night: ^‘During which 
time,” writes Jefferson, ^^I was a silent witness to a coolness and 


118 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


candor of argument unusual in the conflicts of political opinion; 
to a logical reasoning and chaste eloquence, disfigured by no 
gaudy tinsel of rhetoric or declamation, and truly worthy of being 
placed in parallel with the finest dialogues of antiquity as handed 
to us by Xenophon, by Plato and Cicero.^^ They agreed upon a 
single legislature, giving the king a veto. 

Mr. Jefferson, considering his relation to the court, was placed 
in a very embarrassing situation in having such a conference thus 
held at his house. With his characteristic frankness, he promptly 
decided what to do. The next morning, he waited on Count 
Montmorin, the minister of the king, and explained to him just 
how it had happened. The minister very courteously replied, 
that he already knew every thing that had passed; and that, 
instead of taking umbrage at the use thus made of his house, he 
would be glad to have Mr. Jefferson assist at all such conferences, 
being sure that his influence would tend to moderate the warmer 
spirits, and to promote only salutary reform. 

Soon after this, Mr. Jefferson returned to America. As we have 
mentioned, his departed wife had been a member of the Episcopal 
Church. Her eldest daughter, Martha, had all her moral and re¬ 
ligious feelings educated in that direction. Her father never 
uttered a word to lead his children to suppose that he had any 
doubts respecting Christianity. He attended the Episcopal Church 
with them, and devoutl}^ took part in the responses. In France, 
Mr. Jefferson hacl placed his daughters at school in a convent. 
Martha, a serious, thoughtful, reverential girl, of fine mind and 
heart, became very deeply impressed with the seclusion, the de¬ 
votion, the serene life, of Panthemont. Having one of those 
sensitive natures peculiarly susceptible to such influenccvs, and 
dreaming of finding freedom in the cell of the nun from the frivoli¬ 
ties, turmoil, and temptations of life, she wrote to her father for 
permission to remain in the convent, and to dedicate herself to 
the duties of a religious life. 

A few days passed, and there was no answer. Then her fa¬ 
ther’s carriage rolled up to the door of the convent. Martha, trem¬ 
bling, and with palpitating heart, advanced to meet him. He 
greeted her with almost more than his wonted cordiality and 
affection, held a short private interview with the abbess, and in¬ 
formed his daughters that he had come to take them away. The 
carriage rolled from the door, and their days in the convent were 


THOMAS JEFFERSON. 




ended. ’Martha, tall, graceful, beautiful, accomplished, was intro¬ 
duced to society, and became the ornament of her father^s saloons; 
and never was there the slightest allusion made, by word or letter, 
to her desire to enter the convent. In after-years, she spoke, with 
a heart full of gratitude, of her father’s judicious course on the 
occasion. Her wish was not a deep religious conviction: it was 
merely tfie transient emotion of a romantic girl. 

This was in April, 1789. Jefferson had not expected to remain 
80 long in Europe. He was now anxious to return with his 
daughters to his own country. We have spoken of the two par¬ 
ties then rising in%thfe United States, one of which would rather 
favor England •in* commercial and legislative policy: the other 
would favor France. John Adams was a distinguished represen¬ 
tative of the English party. He scouted the idea that we owed 
any gratitude to France for her intervention in our behalf. Jef¬ 
ferson was prominently of the French party. In the following 
terms he expresses his views upon this subject, in a letter to Mr. 
James Madison. Speaking of the National Assembly in Frapce, 
he says,— 

It is impossible to desire better dispositions toward us than 
prevail in this Assembly.* Our proceedings have been viewed as 
a model for them on every occasion. I am sorry, that, in the mo¬ 
ment of such a disposition, any thing should come from us to check 
it. The placing them on a mere footing with the English will 
have this effect. When, of two nations, the one has engaged her¬ 
self in a ruinous war for us; has spent her blood and money to 
save us; has opened her bosom to us- in peace, and received us 
almost on the footing of her own citizens; while the other has 
moved heaven, earth, and hell, to exterminate us in war; has in¬ 
sulted us in all her councils in peace; shut her doors to us in 
every port where her interests would permit it; libelled us in for¬ 
eign nations; endeavored to poison them against the reception of 
our most precious commodities, — to place these two nations on a 
footing is to give a great deal more to one than to the other, if 
the maxim be true, that, to make unequal quantities equal, you 
must add more to one than to the other.” 

Having obtained leave of absence, Jefferson left Paris, to re¬ 
turn to America, on the 23d of September, 1789. His numerous 
friends gathered • around him on his departure, with the warmest 
demonstrations of admiration and love. It was supposed that he 


120 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


was leaving but for a short visit home. Had it been known that 
his departure was to be final, his unbounded popularity would 
have conferred upon him no less imposing demonstrations than 
those which had been lavished upon Benjamin Franklin/' 

After the usual vicissitudes of a sea-voyage, Mr. Jefferson and 
his daughters landed at Norfolk in December. There were no 
stages there in those days. They set out in a private carriage, 
borrowing horses of their friends, for Monticello; which they 
reached on the 23d of December. They loitered on the way, 
making several friendly visits. Two or three days before reach¬ 
ing home, Mr. Jefferson sent an express to hfs overseer to have 
his house made ready for his reception. The news spread like 
wildfire through the negro-huts, clustered at several points over 
the immense plantation. The slaves begged for a holiday to re¬ 
ceive their master. The whole number, men, women, and chil¬ 
dren, at an early hour, dressed in their best, were straggling along 
towards the foot of the mountain to meet the carriage about two 
miles from the mansion. 



JEFFEUSON’S return to MONTK'ELLo* 






THOMAS JEFFERSON. 


121 


After waiting several hours, a coach, drawn by four‘horses, was 
seen approaching. The negroes raised a shout, and in a moment 
were surrounding the carriage. In spite of the entreaties of their 
master,— probably not very earnestly given,— they detached the 
horses, and, some dragging, some pushing, and all shouting at 
the top of their lungs, whirled the coach along until they reached 
the lawn in front of the house. As, in the midst of the wild uproar, 
Mr. Jefferson stepped from the carriage, a network of black, 
sinewy arms grasped him; and, with resounding triumph, he was 
borne up the steps and into his home. 

With instinctive delicacy, ‘‘ the crowd then respectfully broke 
apart for the young ladies; and as the stately, graceful Martha, 
and the little fairy-like Maria, advanced between the dark lines, 
shouts rent the sky, and many a curly-headed urchin was held 
aloft to catch a look at what their mothers and sisters v/ere 
already firmly persuaded could not be paralleled in the Ancient 
Dominion.” 

Mr. .Jefferson was, from beginning to end, an ardent admirer 
and warm supporter of Washington; and the esteem was recipro¬ 
cal. Immediately upon his return from France, Washingtoh wrote 
to him in the most flattering terms, urging upon him a seat in his 
cabinet as Secretary of State. After some conference, he ac¬ 
cepted the appointment. Martha, having forgotten her disposi¬ 
tion to be a nun, was married on the 23d of February, 1790, to a 
very splendid young man, — Col. Thomas M. Randolph. A few 
days after the wedding, on the 1st of March, Mr. Jefferson set out for 
New York, which was then the seat of government. lie went 
by way of Richmond and Alexandria. The roads were horrible. 
At the latter place he took a stage, sending his carriage round 
by water, and leading his horses. Through snow and mud, their 
speed seldom exceeded three or four miles an hour by day, and 
one mile an hour by night. A fortnight, of great fatigue, was 
consumed in the journey. Occasionally, Jefferson relieved the 
monotony of th6 dreary ride by mounting his led saddle-horse. • 
At Philadelphia he called upon his friend Benjamin Franklin, 
then in his last illness. 

The American Revolution did not originate in hostility to a 
monarchical form of government, but in resisting the oppres¬ 
sions which that government was inflicting upon the American 
people. Consequently, many persons, who were iftost active in 
16 


122 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

tlie Revolution, would have been very willing to see an inde¬ 
pendent monarchy established here. But Mr. Jefferson had seen 
so much of ‘ the pernicious influence of kings and courts in 
Europe, that he had become an intense republican. Upon his 
arrival in New York, he was much surprised at the freedom with 
which many persons advocated a monarchical government. He 
writes, — 

“I cannot describe the wonder and mortiflcation with which 
the table-conversation filled me. Politics were the chief topic; 
and a preference of a kingly over a republican government was 
evidently the favorite sentiment. An apostate I could not be, nor 
yet a hypocrite; and I found myself, for the most part, the only 
advocate on the republican side of the question, unless among the 
guests there chanced to be some member of that party from the 
legislative houses.” 

Washington was constitutionally, and by all the habits of his 
life, averse to extremes. He was a sincere republican, and, being 
thoroughly national in his affections, kept as far as possible aloof 
from parties; sacredly administering the government in accord¬ 
ance with the Constitution which he revered. In the great con¬ 
flict wliich has ensued, neither party has ventured very loudly 
to claim him. It cannot, however, be denied, that, with the Feder¬ 
alists, he felt the need of a little more strength in the National 
Government to meet the emergencies which the growing wealth, 
population, and power of the nation would eventually introduce. 
The great pressure which Adams and Kis friends had foreseen 
came when our civil war was ushered in. The government, strug¬ 
gling for very existence, instinctively grasped those powers vhich 
were found to be essential to its preservation; scarcely stopping 
to ask whether the act were authorized by the Constitution or 
not. 

On the 1st of September, Mr. Jefferson set out for his home 
in his private carriage. He took Mr. Madison with him. They 
stopped at Mount Vernon, and spent a few days* with President 
Washington. His letters to his daughters, during his six-months’ 
absence in New York, are truly beautiful as developments of pa¬ 
rental solicitude and love. To Maria he writes, who was then but 
twelve years of age, — 

Tell me whether you see the sun rise every day; how many 
pages a day you read in ^ Don Quixote,’ — how far you are ad- 


THOMAS JEFFERSON. 


123 


vanced in him; whether you repeat a grammar-lesson every day, 
what else you read; how many hours a day you sew; whether 
you have an opportunity of continuing your music; whether you 
know how to make a pudding yet, to cut out a beef-steak, to sow 
spinach, or to set a hen. Be good, my dear, as I have always 
found you ; never be angry with anybody, nor speak hard of them; 
try to let everybody’s faults be forgotten, as you would wish yours 
to be; take more pleasure in giving what is best to another than 
in having it yourself; and then all the world will love you, and I 
more than all the world. If your sister is with you, kiss her, and 
tell her how much I love her also.” 

Mr. Jefferson remained at Monticello, in a delighted re-union 
with his loved and loving children, until the 8th of November, 
when his official duties called him back to New York. Mr. Madi¬ 
son again took a seat in his carriage, and again they paid the 
President a short visit at Mount Vernon. 

John Adams was then Vice-President; Alexander Hamilton, 
Secretary of the Treasury. The favorable opinion which both 
these illustrious men entertained of the English Constitution was 
well known. Mr. Jefferson states, that at a small dinner-party 
which he gave early in 1791, both Adams and Hamilton being 
present, Mr. Adams said, speaking of the British Constitution, 
Purge that constitution of its corruption, and give to its popu¬ 
lar branch equality of representation, and it will be the most per¬ 
fect constitution ever devised by the wit of man.” Mr. Hamilton, 
after a moment’s pause, said, Purge it of its corruption, and give 
to its popular branch equality of representation, and it will become 
an impracticable government. As it stands at present, with all its 
supposed defects, it is the most perfect government which ever 
existed.” — ^^This,” says Mr. Jefferson, “was assuredly the exact 
line which separated the political creeds of these two gentlemen. 
The one was for two hereditary branches, and an honest elective 
one ; the other, for an hereditary king, with a house of lords and 
commons corrupted to his will, and standing between him and the 
people.” 

In the later years of his life, Mr. Jefferson gave it as his opin¬ 
ion, that, though Mr. Adams had been originally a republican, the 
glare of royalty and nobility which he had witnessed in England 
had made him believe their fascination a necessary ingredient in 
government. To throw light upon the political rupture which 


124 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


subsequently took place between Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Adams, 
the following extract from one of Mr. Jefferson’s letters, under 
date of May 8, 1791, will be read with interest: — 

I am afraid the indiscretion of a printer has committed me 
with my friend Mr. Adams, for whom, as one of the most honest 
and disinterested men alive, I have a cordial esteem, increased by 
long habits of concurrence of opinion in the days of his republi¬ 
canism ; and, even since his apjostasy to hereditary monarchy and 
nobility, we differ as friends should do.” 

Two months after this, Mr. Jefferson wrote a very friendly let¬ 
ter to Mr. Adams, in which he alludes to the difference which he 
supposed existed between them in reference to government. As¬ 
suming that both of.these illustrious men were perfectly frank and 
honest, knowing that they were most intimately acquainted with 
each other, and had been so for years, discussing publicly and 
privately, on the floor of Congress and in committees, every con¬ 
ceivable point of national polity, and remembering that the slight 
estrangement which had now arisen originated in the fact that Mr. 
Adams had published a pamphlet expressing political views which 
Mr. Jefferson deemed so erroneous, that he wished to have an Eng¬ 
lish { amphlet, written by Thomas Paine, republished as an answer 
to them, we read with no little surprise Mr. Adams’s reply, in 
which he says,— 

^^You observe, ^That you and I differ in our ideas of the best 
form of government is well known to us both.’ But, my dear sir, 
you will give me leave to say that I do not know this. I know 
not what your idea is of the best form of government. You and 
I have never had a serious conversation together, that I can recol¬ 
lect, concerning the nature of government. The very transient 
hints that have ever passed between us have been jocular and sa- 
perficial, without ever coming to an explanation. If you suppose 
that I have, or ever had, a design or desire of attempting to intro¬ 
duce a government of king, lords, and commons, or, in other 
words, an hereditary executive or an hereditary senate, either into 
the government of the United States or that of any individual 
State, you are wholly mistaken.” 

In pondering this remarkable statement, there is a possible solu¬ 
tion of its apparent difficulty in the supposition, that while Mr. 
Adams considered the British Constitution, if purged as he had 
proposed, the best that had ever existed, he had still no idea 


THOMAS JEFFERSON. 


126 


whatever of attempting to make our Constitution give place to 
it. It has also been suggested, that, from the peculiarity of Mr. 
Adams’s mind, he did not regard any thing in the light of political 
disquisition which did not embrace at least a folio or two. 

The flame of partisan feeling began now to burn more and more 
intensely throughout the whole length and breadth of the United 
States. Lafayette, in France, was then at the head of the patriot 
army struggling against the despotisms of Europe, with the hope, 
daily becoming more faint, of establishing popular rights in his 
native land. Mr. Jefferson \frote to him under date of June 16, 
1792,— 

Behold you, then, my dear friend, at the head of a great army, 
establishing the liberties of your country against a foreign enemy. 
May Heaven favor your cause, and make you the channel through 
which it may pour its ffivors! While you are extirpating the mon¬ 
ster aristocracyj and pulling out the teeth and fangs of its asso¬ 
ciate monarchy, a contrary tendency is discovered in some here. 
A sect has shown itself among us, who declare that they espoused 
our new Constitution, not as a good and sufficient thing in itself, 
but only as a step to an English Constitution, — the only thing 
good and sufficient in itself in their eyes. It is happy for us that 
these are preachers without followers, and that our people are 
firm and constant in their republican purity. You will wonder to 
be told that it is from the eastward chiefly that these champions 
for a king, lords, and commons, come.” 

President Washington watched with great anxiety the rising 
storm, and did all he could to quell its fury. His cabinet was 
divided. Gen. Hamilton, Secretary of the Treasury, was leader 
of the so-called Federal party. Mr. Jefferson, Secretary of State, 
was leader of the Republican party. On the 30th of September, 
1792, as he was going from Monticello to the seat of government, 
he stopped, as usual, at Mount Vernon, and spent a night with 
President Washington. Mr. Jefferson mak^s the following record 
in his note-book of this interview, which shows conclusively that 
President Washington did not agree wifh Mr. Jefferson in his 
belief that there was a strong monarchical party in this coun¬ 
try : — 

The President,” he writes, “ expressed his concern at the dif¬ 
ferences which he found to subsist between the Secretary of the 
Treasury and myself, of which, he said, he had not been aware. 


126 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


He knew, indeed, that there was a marked difference in our politi¬ 
cal sentiments; but he had never suspected it had gone so far in 
producing a personal difference, and he wished he could be the 
mediator to put an end to it; that he thought it important to 
preserve the check of my opinions in the administration, in order 
to keep things in their proper channel, and prevent them from 
going too far; that, os to the idea of transforming this government 
into a monarchy, he did not believe there were ten men in the United 
States, ivhose opinions were worth attention, who entertained such a 
thought.'*' 

Some important financial measures which were proposed by Mr. 
Hamilton, Mr. Jefferson violently opposed. They were, however, 
sustained by the cabinet, adopted by both houses of the legisl.v 
ture, and approved by the President. The enemies of Mr. Jeffer¬ 
son now pressed him with the charge of indelicacy in holding 
office under a government whose leading measures he opposed. 
Bitter was the warfare waged between the two hostile secreta¬ 
ries. We now and then catch a glimpse of Washington in this 
bitter strife, endeavoring, like an angel of peace, to lay the storm. 
Hamilton accused Jefferson of lauding the Constitution in public 
while in private he had admitted that it contained those imperfec-' 
tions of want of power which Hamilton laid to its charge. This 
accusation was so seriously made, that Mr. Jefferson sent a docu¬ 
ment to the President to disprove it, containing numerous extracts 
from his private and confidential correspondence. The President 
replied, under date of Oct. 18, 1792,— 

‘‘ I did not require the evidence of the extracts which you en¬ 
closed to me to convince me of your attachment to the Constitu¬ 
tion of the United States, or your disposition to promote the 
general welfare of this country : but I regret, deeply regret, the 
difference in opinions which has arisen, and divided you and 
another principal officer of the Government; and I wish devoutly 
there could be an accommodation of them by mutual yieldings. 
I will frankly and solemnly declare, that I believe the views of 
both of you to be pure and well meant, and that experience only 
will decide with respect to the salutariness of the measures which 
are the subjects of dispute. I am persuaded that there is no dis¬ 
cordance in your views. I have a great, a sincere esteem and 
regard for you both, and ardently wish that some line could bo 
marked out by which both of you could walk.^’ 


THOMAS JEFFEBSOH. 


127 


The President seems to have been in accord with Mr. Jefierson 
in his, views of the importance of maintaining cordial relations 
with France. Both England and Spain were then making en¬ 
croachments upon us, very menacing in their aspect. The Presi¬ 
dent, in a conversation with Mr. Jefferson, on the 27th of Decem¬ 
ber, 1792, urged the necessity of making sure of the alliance with 
France in the event of a rupture with either of these powers. 

“ There is no nation,” said he, on whom we can rely at all times, 
but France.” This had long been one of the fundamental princi¬ 
ples of Mr. Jefferson’s policy. Upon the election of President 
Washington to his second term of office, Mr. Jefferson wished to 
retire from the cabinet. Dissatisfaction with the measures of the 
Government was doubtless a leading cause. At the earnest solici¬ 
tation, however, of the President, he consented to remain in his 
position, which was daily becoming more uncomfortable, until the 
last of July, when he again sent in his resignation. 

But still again President Washington so earnestly entreated 
him to remain, that, very reluctantly, he consented to continue in 
office until the close of the year. In the following extracts from 
a letter to James Madison, it will be seen how irksome the duties 
of his office had become to him: — 

I have now been in the public service four and twenty years; 
one-half of which has been spent in total occupation with their 
affairs, and absence from my own. I have served my tour, then. 
The motion of my blood no longer keeps time with the tumult of 
the world. It leads me to seek happiness in the lap and love of 
my family; in the society of my neighbors and my books; in the 
wholesome occupation of my farm and my affairs; in an interest 
or affection in every bud that opens, in every breath that blows 
around me; in an entire freedom of rest, of motion, of thought; 
owing account to myself alone of my hours and actions. 

What must be the principle of that calculation which should 
balance against these the circumstances of my present existence ? 
— worn down with labors from morning to night, and day to day; 
knowing them as fruitless to others as they are vexatious to my¬ 
self ; committed singly in desperate and eternal contest against a 
host, who are systematically undermining the public liberty and 
prosperity; even the rare hours of relaxation sacrificed to the 
society of persons in the same intentions, of whose hatred I am 
conscious, even in those moments of conviviality when the heart 


128 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


wishes most to open itself to the effusions of friendship and con¬ 
fidence ; cut off from my family and friends ; my affairs abandoned 
to chaos and derangement; in short, giving every thing 1 love in 
exchange for every thing I hate; and all this without a single 
gratification in possession or prospect, in present enjoyment or 
future wish.’’ 

In the following terms, the President, on the 1st of January, 
1794, accepted Mi\ Jefferson’s filial resignation: “I received yes¬ 
terday, with sincere regret, your resignation of the office of Secre¬ 
tary of State. Since it has been impossible to prevail upon you 
to forego any longer the indulgence of your desire for private life, 
the event, however anxious I am to avert it, must be submitted 
to; but I cannot suffer you to leave your station without assur¬ 
ing you that the opinion which I had formed of your integrity and 
talents, and which dictated your original nomination, has been 
confirmed by the fullest experience, and that both have been emi¬ 
nently displayed in the discharge of your duty.” 

On the 5th of January, Mr. Jefterson, with his fragile, beauti¬ 
ful daughter Maria, left Philadelphia for his loved retreat at Monti- 
cello. On the 16th, he reached home. So utterly weary was he 
of public affairs, that he endeavored to forget them entirely. 
Pour months after this, in May, he wrote to John Adams, then 
Vice-President, I dp not take a single newspaper, nor read 
one a month. I feel myself infinitely the happier for it.” His 
landed estate at this time consisted of ten thousand six hundred 
and forty-seven acres. He had sold a considerable portion to pay 
off some debts with which his wife’s patrimony was encumbered. 
His slaves amounted to one hundred and fifty-four. From the 
lawn at Monticello he could look down upon six thousand of his 
broad acres, spread out magnificently before him. He had thirty- 
four horses, five mules, two hundred and forty-nine cattle, three 
hundred and ninety hogs. Such an estate as this will not take 
care of itself; and he found, through his long absence from home, 
his fields exhausted, and his affairs in confusion. Nine months 
passed away in entire devotion to the cares of the farm, and in 
enjoying the endearments of his children and his grandchildren. 
President Washington then made another endeavor to call him 
back to the cabinet. In reply, Mr. Jefferson wrote to the Secreta¬ 
ry of State through whom the application came,— 

No circumstances, my dear sir, will ever more tempt mo to 


THOMAS JEFFERSON. 


129 


engage' in any thing public. I thought myself perfectly fixed in 
this determination when I left Philadelphia; but every day and 
hour since has added to its inflexibility. It is a great pleasure to 
me to retain the esteem and approbation of the President; and this 
forms the only ground of any reluctance at being unable to com¬ 
ply with every wish of his.’^ 

Every day the political horizon was growing more stormy. All 
Europe was in the blaze of war. England, the most powerful mon¬ 
archy on the globe, was straining every nerve to crush the French 
Revolution. The haughty course which the British Government 
pursued towards the United States had exasperated even the pla¬ 
cid Washingtoij. He wrote to Gen. Hamilton on the 31st of 
August, 1794,— 

By the§e high-handed measures of that government, and the 
outrageous and insulting conduct of its officers, it would seem 
next to impossible to keep peace between the United States and 
Great Britain.’’ 

Even John Adams became roused. Two years after, he wrote, 
in reference to the cool treatment which his son, John Quincy 
Adams, had received in England, ^‘ I am glad of it; for I would not 
have my son go as far as Mr. Jay, and affirm the friendly dispo¬ 
sition of that country to this. I know better. I know their jeal¬ 
ousy, envy, hatred, and revenge, covered under pretended 
contempt.” Jefferson’s slumbering energies were, electrifled: he 
subscribed for a newspaper, wrote flery letters, and, by his conver¬ 
sational eloquence, moved all who approached him. 

A new presidential election came on. John Adams was the 
Federal candidate; Thomas Jefferson, the Republican. It does not 
appear that Mr. Jefferson was at all solicitous of being elected. 
Indeed, he wrote to Mr. Madison, ‘‘ There is nothing I so anxiously 
hope as that my name may come out .either second or third; as 
the last would leave me at home the whole of the year, and the 
other two-thirds of it.” Alluding to the possibility that “ the rep¬ 
resentatives may be divided,” he makes the remarkable declara¬ 
tion, of the sincerity of which no one who knows the man can 
doubt, “ This is a difficulty from which the Constitution has pro¬ 
vided no issue. It is both my duty and inclination, therefore, to 
relieve the embarrassment, should it happen; and, in that case, I 
pray you, and authorize you fully, to solicit on my behalf that Mr. 
Adams may be preferred. He has always been my senior from the 

17 



130 


LIVES OF TB^ PRESIDENTS. 


commencement of our public life; and, the expression of the public 
will being equal, this circumstance ought to give him the pref 
erence/’ 

As the result of the election, Mr. Adams became President; and 
^r. Jetferson, Vice-President. This rendered it necessary for him 
to leave Monticello for a few months each year to attend the 
sessions of Congress. His numerous letters to his children show 
how weary he had become of party strife, with what reluctance he 
left his home, with what joy he returned to it. His correspond¬ 
ence is full of such expressions as the following: “ I ought often- 
er, my dear Martha, to receive your letters, for the very great 
pleasure they give me, and especially when they express your af¬ 
fection for me; for though I cannot doubt, yet they are among 
those truths, which, not doubted, we love to hear repeated. Here, 
too, they serve like gleams of light to cheer a dreary scene, where 
envy, hatred, malice, revenge, and all the worst^passions of men, 
are marshalled to make one another as miserable as possible. 1 
turn from this with pleasure to contrast it with your fireside, where 
the single evening I passed at it was worth ages here.’’ 

Again he writes to Maria, from Philadelphia,' on the 1st of 
January, 1797, WHhout an object here which is not alien to me, 
and barren of every delight, I turn to your situation with pleasure, 
in the midst of a good family which loves you, and merits all your 
love.” It is a melancholy reflection that such enmities should 
have sprung up between men, and imbittered all their intercourse, 
who were alike true patriots, who were sincerely and earnestly 
seeking the good of their common country, and who only differed, 
and that conscientiously, respecting the best measures to be 
adopted for the national welfare. 

In June, 1800, Congress moved from Philadelphia to Washing¬ 
ton. The new seat of government, literally hewn out of the wil¬ 
derness, was a dreary place. Though, for twelve years, workmen 
had been employed in that lonely, uninhabited, out-of-the- av ay 
spot, in putting up the public buildings, there was nothing as yet 
finished; and vast piles of stone and brick and mortar were scat¬ 
tered at great distances from each other, with swamps or forests 
or sand-banks intervening. Transient huts were sprinkled about 
for the workmen. The Capitol was built on a large SAvell of land ; 
and a mile and a half from it was the unfinished ‘‘President’s 
House,” with literally a mud-road between. No arrangements 
had been made for lodging or boarding the members of Congress. 


THOMAS JEFFERSON. 


131 


Mrs. John Adams, who had seen the residences of royalty in Eu¬ 
rope, — Buckingham Palace, Versailles, and the Tuileries, — gives 
an amusing account of their entrance upon the splendors of the 
White Ilouse.’^ In trying to find Washington from Baltimore, 
they got lost in the woods. After driving for some time, bewil¬ 
dered in forest paths, they chanced to come upon a black man, whom 
they hired to guide them through the forest. The house,” she 
writes, is upon a grand and superb scale, requiring about thirty 
servants to attend, and keep the apartments in proper order, and 
perform the necessary business of the house and stables. The 
lighting the apartments, from the kitchen to parlors and cham¬ 
bers, is a tax indeed; and the fires we are obliged to keep, to se¬ 
cure us from daily agues, is another very cheering comfort. To 
assist us in this great castle, and render less attendance necessa¬ 
ry, bells are wholly wanting, not a single one being hung through 
the whole house ; and promises are all you^can obtain. This is so 
great an inconvenience, that I know not what to do or how to do. 
If they will put me up some bells, and let me have wood enough 
to keep fires, I design to be pleased. I could content myself almost 
anywhere three month's; but, surrounded with forests, can you be¬ 
lieve that wood is not to be had, because people cannot be found 
to cut and cart it ? ” 

The four years of Mr. Jefferson’s Vice-Presidency passed joy¬ 
lessly away, while the storm of partisan strife between Federalist 
and Republican was ever growing hotter. Gen. Hamilton, who 
was a great power in those days, became as much alienated from 
Mr. Adams as from Mr. Jefferson. There was a split in the Fed¬ 
eral party. A new presidential election came on. Mr. Jefferson 
was chosen President; and Aaron Burr, Vice-President. 

The news of the election of Jefferson was received in most paits 
of the Union with the liveliest demonstrations of joy. He was 
the leader of the successful and rapidly increasing party. His 
friends were found in every city and village in our land. They 
had been taught to believe that the triumph of the opposite party 
would be the triumph of aristocratic privilege and of civil and 
religious despotism. On the other hand, many of the Federalists 
turned pale when the tidings reached them that Thomas Jefferson 
was President of the United States. Both the pulpit arid the 
pres^ had taught them that he was the incarnation of all evil, — an 
infidel, an atheist, a scoffer of all things sacred, a Jacobin, breath- 


132 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


ing threatenings and slaughter. There is no exaggeration in thiw 
statement, strong as it is. 

The following is an extract from Jefferson^s inaugural. Nobler 
words were never uttered by one assuming power. That he was 
sincere in the utterance, and that the measures of his administra¬ 
tion were in conformity with the principles here laid down, nearly 
every man will now admit. 

About to enter, fellow-citizens, on the exercise of duties 
which comprehend every thing dear and valuable to you, it is pro? 
per that you should understand what I deem the essential princi¬ 
ples of our government, and consequently those which ought to 
shape its administration. I will compress them within the nar¬ 
rowest compass they will bear, stating the general principle, but 
not all its limitations. 

Equal and exact justice to all men, of %vhatever state or per¬ 
suasion, religious or political; peace, commerce, and honest friend¬ 
ship with all nations, entangling alliances with none; the support 
of the State governments in all of their rights, as the most compe¬ 
tent administrations for our domestic concerns, and the surest bul¬ 
warks against anti-republican tendencies; the preservation of the 
General Government in its whole constitutional vigor, as the sheet- 
anchor of our peace at home, and safety abroad; a jealous care of 
the right of election by the people, — a mild and safe corrective of 
abuses, which are topped by the sword of revolution where peace¬ 
able remedies are unprovided; absolute acquiescence in the de¬ 
cisions of the majority, — the vital principle of republics, from which 
there is no appeal but to force, the vital principle and immediate 
parent of despotism; a well-disciplined militia, — our best reliance 
in peace, and for the first moments of war, till regulars may relieve 
them; the supremacy of the civil over the military authority; 
economy in the public expense, that labor may be lightly bur¬ 
dened ; the honest payment of our debts, and sacred preservation of 
the public faith ; encouragement of agriculture, and of commerce 
as its handmaid; the diffusion of information, and the arraign¬ 
ment of all abuses at the bar of public reason; freedom of religion; 
freedom of the press ; freedom of person, under the protection of 
the habeas corpus, and trial by juries impartially selected, — these 
principles form the bright constellation which has gone before us, 
and guided our steps through an age of revolution and reforma¬ 
tion.” 


THOMAS JEFFERSON. 


133 


He closes with the following words: And may that Infinite 
Power which rules the destinies of the universe lead our councils 
to what is best, and give them a favorable issue for your peace and 
prosperity !” 

Jefferson was exceedingly simple in his taste, having a morbid 
dislike of all that court etiquette which had disgusted him so much 
in Europe. Washington rode to the halls of Congress in state, 
drawn by six cream-colored horses. For some unexplained reason, 
on the morning of his inauguration, Jefferson rode on horseback 
to the Capitol in a dress of plain cloth, without guard or servant, 
dismounted without assistance, and fastened the bridle of his horse 
to the fence. This certainly looks like the affectation of simplicity. 
It may be suggested, in excuse, that Mr. Jefferson had allowed his 
mind to become so thoroughly imbued with the conviction that 
our government was drifting towards monarchy and aristocracy, 
that he felt bound, in his official character, to set the example of 
extreme democratic simplicity. 

In this spirit he abolished levees, which, though he did not so 
intend it, was a movement in an aristocratic direction; for the 
levee threw the presidential mansion open to the most humble of 
the people. By its abolition, none could enter the White House 
but those who were specially invited. The invitations to dine 
were no longer given in the name of the President of the United 
States,’’ as Washington and Adams had given them, but in the 
name of ^‘Thomas Jefferson.” His views upon this subject'may 
be inferred from the following remarks which he made upon the 
character of Washington. After speaking of him in the highest 
terms of eulogy, as one of the greatest and best men this world 
has ever known, he writes,— 

do believe that Gen. Washington had not a firm confidence 
in the durability of our government. He was naturally distrustful 
of men, and inclined to gloomy apprehensions; and I was ever 
persuaded that a belief that we must at length end in something 
like a British Constitution had some weight in his adoption of the 
ceremonies of levees, birthdays, pompous meetings with Congress, 
and other forms of the same character, calculated to prepare us 
gradually for a change which he believed possible, and to let it 
come on with as little shock as might be to the public mind.” 

Mr. Jefferson anil his eldest grandson were one day riding in a 
carriage together. They met a slave, who respectfully took off 


134 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


liis hat, and bowed. The President, according to his invariable 
custom, returned the salutation by raising his hat. The young 
man paid no attention to the negro’s act of civility. Mr. Jeffer¬ 
son, after a few moments’ pause, turned a reproachful eye to him, 
and said, Thomas, do you permit a slave to be more of a gentle¬ 
man than yourself?” 

On another occasion, he was riding on horseback, accompanied 
by two young men, from Monticello to Charlottesville. They 
found Moore’s Creek so swollen by a sudden shower, that the 
water was up to the saddle-girths. A man, with a saddle on his 
shoulders, was standing upon the bank. He looked at the young 
men as they rode through the stream, and said nothing; but, turn¬ 
ing to Mr. Jefferson, he asked permission to mount the croup 
behind him to be carried across. The President reined his horse 
up to a stone, and carried the man across. The countryman then 
dismounted, and trudged along the dusty ro^-d. Soon a party in 
the rear, who had witnessed the operation, came up. One inquired, 
“ What made you let the young men pass, and ask the old gentle¬ 
man to carry you over the creek ? ” The backwoodsman replied, 
in the broad patois of his region, Wal, if you want to know. I’ll 
tell you. I j:eckon a man carries ‘Yes’ or ‘ No’ in his face. The 
young chaps’faces said ‘No;’ the old’un’s, ‘ Yes.’”—“It isn’t every 
one,” the other replied,that would have asked the President of 
the United States for a ride behind him.” — “ What,” said the man, 
“ you don’t say that was Tom Jefferson, do you? ” Then, pausing 
a moment, he added, “ Wal, he’s a fine old fellow, any way. What 
will Polly say when I tell her I have rid behind Jefferson ? She’ll 
say I voted for the right man.” 

The political principles of the Jeffersonian party now swept the 
country, and Mr. Jefferson swayed an influence which was never 
exceeded by Washington himself. Louisiana, under which name 
was then included the whole territory west of the Mississippi to 
the Pacific, was purchased of France, under his administration, in 
the year 1803, for fifteen millions of dollars. He was now smitten 
by another domestic grief. In the year 1804, his beautiful daughter 
Maria, whom he so tenderly loved, sank into the grave, leaving 
her babe behind her. His eldest daughter, Martha, says, speaking 
of her father’s suffering under this terrible grief, — 

I found him with the Bible in his hands. He, who has been 
so often and so harshly accused of unbelief, — he, in his hour of 


THOMAS JEFFERSON. 


135 


intense affliction, sought and found consolation in the sacred vol¬ 
ume. The* comforter was there for his true heart and devout 
spirit, even though his faith might not be what the world calls 
orthodox.’^ ^ 

Mr. Jefferson writes, in response to a letter of condolence from 
a friend, “ My loss is great indeed. Others may lose of their 
abundance; but I, of my want, ha^e lost even the half of all I had. 
M y evening prospects now hang on the slender thread of a single 
life. Perhaps I'may be destined to see even this last chord of 
parental affection broken. The hope with which I had looked 
forward to the moment, when, resigning public cares to younger 
hands, I was to retire to that domestic comfort from which the 
last great step is to be taken, is fearfully blighted. 

We have, however, the traveller’s consolation. Every step 
shortens the distance we have to go. The end of our journey is 
in sight, — the bed whereon we are to rest and to rise in the midst 
of the friends we have lost. ^ We sorrow not, then, as others who 
have no hope,’ but look forward to the day which joins us to the 
great majority. But, whatever is to be our destiny, wisdom as 
well as duty dictates that we should acquiesce in the will of Him 
whose it is to give and take away, and be content in the enjoy¬ 
ment of those who are still permitted to be with us.” 

Another presidential election came in 1804. Mr. Jefferson was 
re-elected President with wonderful unanimity; and George Clinton, 
Vice-President. Jefferson was sixty-two .years of age, when, on 
the 4th of March, 1805, he entered upon his second term of office. 
Our relations with England were daily becoming more compli¬ 
cated from the British demand of the right to stop any of our 
ships, whether belonging to either the commercial or naval marine, 
and to take from them any sailors whom they felt disposed to claim 
as British subjects. The United-States frigate ''Chesapeake,” of 
thirty-eight guns, was fired upon, on the 22d of June, 1807, by 
the British man-of-war " Leopard,” of fifty-six guns; and after a 
loss of three men killed and ten wounded, including Com. Bar¬ 
ron, the " Chesapeake,” which was not in a condition to return a 
single shot, surrendered. Four men were then taken by the 
British officer from the frigate, three of whom were Americans. 
This outrage, which occurred but a few leagues out from Hamp¬ 
ton Roads, created intense excitement. The President despatched 
a vessel to England to demand reparation for the insult; while, at 


136 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


the same time, he issued a proclamation forbidding the waters of 
the United States to all British vessels of war unless ‘in distress 
or bearing despatches. Capt. Douglass, who was at that time 
in command of a British squadron of three men-of-war at Norfolk, 
paid no attention to this proclamation, but wrote an insolent letter 
to the mayor, saying that the Americans could have peace or war, 
just as they desired. In a letter to Lafayette upon this subject, 
the President wrote, — 

‘‘ Never, since the battle of Lexington, have I seen this country 
in such a state of exasperation as at present; and even that did 
not produce such unanimity. The Federalists themselves coalesce 
with us as to the object, although they will return to their old 
trade of condemning every step we take towards obtaining it.^’ 

The course England pursued rendered it certain that war could 
not be avoided. Mr. Jefferson humanely did every thing in his 
power to prevent the Indians from taking any part in it whatever. 
The British, on the contrary, were endeavoring to rouse them to 
deluge the frontiers in blood. England, who was engaged in 
the endeavor to crush Napoleon and re-instate the Bourbons, had 
resolved, at whatever hazard of wax with America, to replenish 
her navy by seizing any British-born subjects, wherever she 
could find them in the marine of the United States. Any young 
lieutenant, protected by the guns of a British man-of-war, would 
step on board any of our ships, and, claiming whoever he pleased 
as British subjects, woyld impress them to fight against France. 
In this way, according to the official returns, more than twelve 
hundred Americans were dragged from our ships. Strange as it 
may now seem, the measures of government to redress these 
wrongs were virulently opposed. Notwithstanding the strength 
and influence of the opposition to Mr. Jefferson’s administration, 
he was sustained by the general voice of the nation. 

Amidst all these cares, the President manifested the most affec¬ 
tionate interest in the welfare of his family. On the 24th of No¬ 
vember, 1808, he wrote a letter to his grandson, who was absent 
from home at school, from which we make the following extract: — 
Your situation at such a distance from us cannot but give us 
all great anxieties for you ; but thrown on a wide world, among 
entire strangers, without a friend or guardian to advise, so young 
too, and with so little experience of mankind, your dangers are 
great, and still your safety must rest on yourself A determinar 


THOMAS JEFFERSON. 


137 


tion never to do what is wrong, prudence and good humor, will 
go far towards securing for you the estimation of the world. 

When I recollect that at fourteen years of age the whole care 
and direction of myself was thrown on myself entirely, without a 
relation or friend qualified to advise or guide me, and recollect 
the various sorts of bad company with which I associated from 
time to time, I am astonished that I did not turn off with some of 
them, and become as worthless to society as they were. I had the 
good fortune to become acquainted very early with- some charac¬ 
ters of very high standing, and to feel the incessant wish that I 
could ever become what they were. Under temptations and 
difficulties, I would ask myself, ^ What would Dr. Small, Mr. Wythe, 
Peyton Randolph, do in this situation?. What course in it will 
insure me their approbation ? ^ 

From the circumstances of my position, I was often thrown 
into the society of horse-racers, card-players, fox-hunters, scien¬ 
tific and professional men, and of dignified men; and many a time 
have I asked myself, in the enthusiastic moment of the death of a 
fox, the victory of a favorite horse, the issue of a question elo¬ 
quently argued at the bar or in the great council of the nation, 

‘ Well, which of these kinds of reputation should I prefer, — that of 
a horse-jockey, a fox-hunter, an orator, or the honest advocate of 
my country's rights?^ Be assured, my dear Jefferson, that these 
little returns into ourselves, this self-catechising habit, is not 
trifiing nor useless, but leads to the prudent selection and steady 
pursuit of what is right.’^ 

In the year 1808, Mr. Jefferson closed his second term of office, 
and James Madison succeeded him as President of the United 
States. In the following terms, the retiring President expresses 
to a friend his feelings upon surrendering the cares of office: — 

Within a few days I retire to my family, my books, and farms; 
and, having gained the harbor myself, I shall look on my friends, 
still buffeting the storm, with anxiety indeed, but not with envy. 
Never did a prisoner, released from his chains, feel such relief as 
I shall on shaking off the shackles of power. Nature intended me 
for the tranquil pursuits of science by rendering them my supremo 
delight; but the enormities of the times in which I have lived 
have forced me to take a part in resisting them, and to commit 
myself on the boisterous ocean of political passions. I thank God 
for the opportunity of retiring from them Without censure, and 
18 


138 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS, 


carrying with me the most consoling proofs of public approba 
tion.’’ 

President Jefferson, after remaining in Washington to see his 
successor and bosom friend inaugurated, left for Monticello. 
Between them, after Mr. Jefferson’s retirement, a tree and con¬ 
fidential correspondence was kept up respecting the measures ol 
government. Their intellectual traits were very similar, while 
their tastes and political principles were quite the same. Jeffer¬ 
son’s subsequent life at Monticello was very similar to that of 
Washington at Mount Yernon. A kinder master never lived. On 
no account would he allow his slaves to be overworked. His 
mornings he devoted to his numerous correspondence; from 
breakfast to dinner, he was in the shops and over the farms; from 
dinner to dark, he devoted to recreation and friends; from dark to 
early bedtime, he read. He was particularly interested in young 
men, advising them as to their course of reading. Several came, 
and took up their residence in the neighboring town of Charlottes¬ 
ville, that they might avail themselves of his library, which was 
ever open for their use. 

From a series of untoward events, which we have not space 
here to record, Mr. Jefferson became deeply involved in debt, so 
that it was necessary for him to sell a large portion of his estate. 
Still, in the year 1809, he owned about ten thousand acres of land, 
a valuable mansion, richly furnished, with a large and costly library. 
His vast plantation, cut up into several farms, was well stocked. 
His slaves numbered two hundred. The value of the whole prop¬ 
erty was about two hundred thousand dollars. His debts were 
then but about twenty thousand dollars. But it is to be remem¬ 
bered that this property was productive only so far as the land 
could be worked. Of the two hundred slaves, one hundred were 
either children too young, or the aged too infirm, to be of much 
service. Of the one hundred who remained, some were mechanics, 
and a large number were employed as house-servants. Mr. Jeffer¬ 
son was profuse in his hospitality. Whole families came in their 
coaches with their horses, — fathers and mothers, boys and girls, 
babies and nurses, — and remained three or even six months. One 
family of six persons came from Europe, and made a visit of ten 
months. After a short tour, they returned, and remained six 
months longer. Every day brought its contingent of guests. A 
gentleman who was often present says,— 


THOMAS JEFFERSON. 


130 


“ People of wealth, fashion, men in office, professional men, mil¬ 
itary and civil, lawyers, doctors, Protestant clergymen, Catholic 
priests, members of Congress, foreign ministers, missionaries, In¬ 
dian agents, tourists, travellers, artists, strangers, friends, came, 
some from affection and respect, some from curiosity, some to give 
or receive advice or instruction, and some from idleness. Life at 
Monticello, for years, resembled that*at a fashionable watering- 
place. Mr. Jefferson always made his appearance at the breakfast- 
table : his guests were then left to amuse themselves as they 
pleased until dinner-time. They walked, talked, read, made ex¬ 
cursions with the ladies, or hunted in the woods: some sought 
the retirement of the splendid library; others, the social enjoyments 
of the drawing-room; while others retired to the quiet of their own 
chambers, or to a solitary stroll down the mountain-side.’^ 

Such hospitality would speedily consume a larger fortune than 
Mr. Jefferson possessed. He had a favorite servant, Wormley, 
who, with the utmost fidelity, watched over the interests of his 
master. Mr. Jefferson had three carriage-houses, each of which 
would hold a four-horse coach. These carriage-houses were for 
the accommodation of his friends, who came with their loaded 
coaches, drawn by four horses, to visit him. Some time after Mr. 
Jefferson’s death, a gentleman at Monticello asked Wormley how 
often those carriage-houses were all filled in Mr. Jefferson’s time. 
He replied, “Every night, sir, in summer; and we commonly had 
two or three carriages besides under that tree,” pointing to a large 
tree in the vicinity. “ It must have taken,” the gentleman added, 
“all hands to have taken care of your visitors.” — “ Yes,” the 
faithful old slave replied, “ and the whole farm to feed them.” 

Mr. Jefferson’s daughter, Mrs. Randolph, was the presiding lady 
of this immense establishment. The domestic service required 
thirty-seven house-servants. Mrs. Randolph, upon being asked 
what was the greatest number of guests she had ever entertained 
any one night, replied, “ she believed fifty.” 

In the winter, Mr. Jefferson had some little repose from the 
6rowd of visitors. He then enjoyed, in the highest possible 
degree, all that is endearing in domestic life. It is impossible to 
describe the love with which he was cherished by his grand¬ 
children. One of them writes, in a letter overflowing with the 
gushing of a loving heart, “ My Bible came from him, my Shak- 
speare, my first writing-table, my first handsome writing-desk, my 


140 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


first Leghorn hat, my first silk dress: what, in short, of all my 
treasures did not come from him ? My sisters, according to their 
wants and tastes, were equally thought of, equally provided for. 
Our grandfather seemed to read our hearts, to see our individual 
wishes, to be our good genius, to wave the fairy wand to brighten 
our young lives by his goodness and his gifts.’’ 

Another writes, I cannot describe the feelings of veneration, 
admiration, -and love, that existed in my heart towards him. I 
looked on him as a being too great and good for my comprehen¬ 
sion ; and yet I felt no fear to approach him, and be taught by him 
some of the childish sports I delighted in. Not one of us, in our 
wildest moods, ever placed a foot on one of the garden-beds, for 
that would violate one of his rules; and yet I never heard him 
utter a harsh word to one of us, or speak in a raised tone of voice, 
or use a threat.” 

In 1812, a perfect reconciliation took place between Mr. Adams 
and Mr. Jefferson; the latter very handsomely and magnanimously 
making the first advances. This friendship, which was kept up 
by a constant interchange of letters, continued unabated until 
their death, — on the same day, and almost at the same hour. 

After Mr. Jefferson had passed his threescore years and ten, 
he wrote to Mr. Adams in the following philosophic strain, which, 
as usual, leaves us in the dark in reference to his religious faith: — 

You ask if I would live my seventy, or rather seventy-three, 
years over again.. To which I say, ^ Yea.’ I think, with you, that 
it is a good world, on the whole; that it has been framed on a 
principle of benevolence; and that more pleasure than pain is dealt 
out to us. 

There is a ripeness of time for death, regarding others as well 
as ourselves, when it is reasonable we should drop off, and make 
room for another growth. When we have lived our generation 
out, we should not wish to encroach on another. I enjoy good 
health; I am happy in what is around me : yet I assure you I am 
ripe to leave all this day, this year, this hour.” In a letter to Mr. 
Adams, dated January, 1817, we find the remark, ^‘Perhaps, how¬ 
ever, one of the elements of future felicity is to be a constant and 
unimpassioned view of what is passing here.” In the same letter, 
he says, that, in reply to the question of one respecting his reli¬ 
gious faith, he answered, ‘‘ Say nothing of my religion : it is known 
to my God and myself alone,” 


* 


THOMAS JEFFERSON. 


141 


Mr. Jefferson was ever ready to express his views frankly upon 
all subjects of science, philosophy, and politics. It is certainly 
remarkable that such a.man was not willing to express his views 
upon a subject more important than all others, — the eternal well¬ 
being of man. Again: he writes to Mr. John Adams in a strain 
whi(;h throws interesting light upon his occupation at that time, 
Forty-three volumes read in one year, and twelve of them quarto. 
Dear sir, how I envy you 1 Half a dozen of octavos in that space of 
time are as much as I am allowed. I can read by candle-light only, 
and stealing long hours from my rest. From sunrise to one or two 
o’clock, and often from dinner to dark, I am drudging at the writ¬ 
ing-table : and all this to answer letters in which neither interest 
nor inclination on my part enters, and often from persons whose 
names I have never before heard; yet, writing civilly, it is hard 
to refuse them civil answers.” He had the curiosity to count the 
letters »-eceived for one year,—a fair average; and they amounted 
to one thousand two hundred and sixty-seven. At his death he 
had copies of sixteen thousand letters which he had written; 
and he had twenty-five thousand letters .on file which he had 
received. 

In November, 1818, Mrs. John Adams died; and President Jef¬ 
ferson wrote the following beautiful letter of condolence to her 
husband: — 

“ The public papers, my dear friend, announce the fatal event 
of which your letter of October the 20th had given me ominous 
foreboding. Tried myself in the school of affliction by the loss of 
every form of connection which can rive the human heart, I know 
well and feel what you have lost, what you have suffered, are 
suffering, and have yet to endure. The same trials have taught 
me, that, for ills so immeasurable, time and silence are the only 
medicine. I will not, therefore, by useless condolences, open 
afresh the sluices of your grief; nor, although mingling sincerely 
my tears with yours, will I say a word more, where words are 
vain, but that it is some comfort to us both that the term is not 
very distant at which we are to deposit in the same cerement our 
sorrows and suffering bodies, and to ascend in essence to an 
ecstatic meeting with the friends we have loved and lost, and 
whom we shall still love, and never lose again. God bless you, 
and support you under your heavy affliction I ” 

In a letter dated March 21, 1819, he writes to Dr. Vine Utley, 


142 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


1 never go to bed without an hour or half an hour’s previous 
reading of something moral whereon to ruminate in the intervals 
of sleep.” The book from which he oftenest read was a collection 
which he had made by cutting such passages from the evangelists 
as came directly from the lips of the Saviour. These he arranged 
in a blank-book. Jefferson writes to a friend, A more beautiful 
or precious morsel of ethics I have never seen: it is a document 
in proof that I am a real Christian ; that is to say, a disciple of 
the doctrines of Jesus.” This book Mr. Jefferson prepared evi¬ 
dently with great care. It is a very full compend of the teachings 
of our Saviour. It was entitled ‘‘The Philosophy of Jesus of 
Nazareth.” He also prepared a second volume, which he had 
bound in morocco, in a handsome octavo volume, and which he 
labelled on the back, “ iflorals of Jesus.” It is a little remarkable 
that Mr. Jefferson should have made these collections so secretly, 
that none of the members of his family knew even of the existence 
of the books until after his death. One would have supposed that 
he would have considered these teachings valuable for his children 
and his grandchildren as well as for himself. Indeed, we are 
informed that he conferred with some friends upon the expediency 
of printing them in several Indian dialects for the instruction of 
the Indians. 

He devoted much attention to the establishment of the uni¬ 
versity at Charlottesville. Having no religious faith which he 
was willing to avow, he was not willing that any religious faith 
whatever should be taught in the university as a part of its 
course of instruction. This establishment, in a Christian land, of 
an institution for the education of youth, where the relation exist¬ 
ing between man and his Maker was entirely ignored, raised a 
general cry of disapproval throughout the whole country. It left 
a stigma upon the reputation of Mr. Jefferson, in the minds of 
Christian people, which can never be effaced. He endeavored to 
ibate the censure by suggesting that the various denominations 
of Christians might establish schools, if they wished, in the vicin¬ 
ity of the university; and the students, if they wished, could' 
attend their religious instructions. 

The year 1826 opened gloomily upon Mr. Jefferson. He was 
very infirm, and embarrassed by debts, from which he could see 
but little hope of extrication. The indorsement for a friend had 
placed upon him an additional twenty thousand dollars of debt. 


THOMAS JEFFERSON. 


143 


To be old and poor is one of the greatest of earthly calamities. He 
■applied to the Legislature for permission to dispose of a large por¬ 
tion of his property by lottery, hoping thus to realize a sum suflS- 
cient to pay his debts, and to leave enough to give him a competence 
for his few remaining days. Though bitterly opposed to all 
gambling, he argued, in support of his petition, that lotteries were 
not immoral. The university at Charlottesville, which was 
regarded almost exclusively as Mr. Jefferson’s institution, had 
cost vastly more than had been anticipated. The members of the 
Legislature had become weary of making grants; and,just as Mr. 
Jefferson sent in his petition for a lottery, they had, by a very deci¬ 
sive vote, refused an application for an additional grant of money 
for the university. Mortified and saddened, and anxious for the 
future, he wrote to a friend, that, if the Legislature would grant 
him the indulgence he solicited,— 

“ I can save the house of Monticello and a farm adjoining to end 
my days in, and bury my bones ; if not, I must sell house and all 
here, and carry my family to Bedford, where I have not even a 
log hut to put my head into.” 

At the same time, he wrote to his eldest grandson in a strain 
of dignity and of sorrow which no one can read but with sympa¬ 
thy. The letter was dated Feb. 8, 1826. “I duly received 
your affectionate letter of the 3d, and perceive there are greater 
doubts than I had apprehended whether the Legislature will 
indulge my request to them. It is a part of my mortification 
to perceive that I had so far overvalued myself as to have counted 
on it with too much confidence. I see, in the failure of this hope, 
a deadly blast of all my peace of mind during my remaining days. 
You kindly encourage me to keep up my spirits; but,oppressed 
with disease, debility, age, and embarrassed affairs, this is difficult. 
For myself, I should not regard a prostration of fortune; but I am 
overwhelmed at the prospect in which I leave my family. My 
dear and beloved daughter, the cherished companion of my early 
life, and nurse of my age, and her children, rendered as dear to me 
as if my own, from their having lived with me from their cradle, 
left in a comfortless situation, hold up to me nothing but future 
gloom; and I should not care if life were to end with the line I 
am writing, were it not, that, in the unhappy state of mind which 
your father’s misfortunes' have brought upon him, I may yet bo 
of some avail to the family.” 


144 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


To Mr. Jefferson’s great gratification, the lottery bill passed. 
But, all over the country, friends, who appreciated the priceless* 
value of the services which he had rendered our nation, began to 
send to him tokens of their love. The mayor of New York, Philip 
Hone, sent him, collected from a few friends, eight thousand five 
hundred dollars; from Philadelphia, five thousand dollars were 
sent; from Baltimore, three thousand dollars; and one or two 
thousand more were sent from other sources. These testimonials, 
like sunshine breaking through the clouds, dispelled the gloom 
which had been so deeply gathering around his declining day. 
Very rapidly he was now sinking. His steps became so feeble, 
that with difficulty he could totter about the house. 

His very eloquent and truthful biographer, Henry S. Randall, 
says that the Bible was one of the principal books, which, with 
the Greek philosophers, occupied his last reading. The majesty 
of ^schylus, the ripe art of Sophocles, the exhaustless invention 
of Euripides, now came back to him in more than their pristine 
grandeur and beautyand in the Bible he found fiights of sub¬ 
limity more magnificent than in these, coupled with a philosophy 
to which the Grecian was imperfect, narrow, and base. No senti¬ 
ment did he express oftener than his contempt for all moral systems 
compared with that of Christ.” 

There was something peculiarly gentle and touching in his ‘ 
whole demeanor. His good-night kiss, his loving embrace, his 
childlike simplicity and tenderness, often brought tears to the 
eyes of those whose privilege it was to minister to his wants. It 
was evident that he was conscious that the hour of his departure 
was at hand. He was exceedingly careful to avoid making any 
trouble, and was far more watchful for the comfort of those around 
him than for his own. His passage was very slow down into the 
vale of death. To one who expressed the opinion that he seemed 
a little better, he replied, — 

Do not imagine for a moment that I feel the smallest solicitude 
about the result. I am like an old watch, with a pinion worn out 
here and a wheel there, until it can go no longer.” 

He manifested no desire to depart, no cheerful hope of the 
future, and no dread. • Looking up to the doctor, he said calmly, 

A few hours more, and it will all be over.” Hearing the name 
of the minister of the Episcopal Chul-ch which he attended, who 
had called, he said, “ I have no objection to see him as a kind and 


THOMAS JEFFERSON. 


145 


good neighbor.^^ His friends inferred from this that he did not 
wish to see him as a minister of Jesus Christ. Very truly and 
charitably he said, in reference to the anathemas "which had been 
hurled upon him, that his enemies had never known him; that 
they had created an imaginary being, whom they had clothed with 
imaginary attributes, and to whom they had given his name ; and 
that it was this creature of their imagination whom they had so 
virulently assailed. 

On Monday evening, the 3d of July, he awoke about ten o’clock 
from troubled sleep, and, thinking it morning, remarked, This is 
the 4th of July.” Immediately he sank away again into slum¬ 
ber. As the night passed slowly away, all saw that he was sinking 
in death. There was silence in the death-chamber. The myste¬ 
rious separation of the soul from the body was painlessly taking 
place. At ten minutes before one o’clock, at noon, of July 4,1826, 
the last breath left the body. It was a day of darkness and rain 
when the remains were borne to their burial. The Rev. Mr. 
Hatch, the clergyman of the parish, whom Mr. Jefferson highly 
esteemed, read the burial service of the Episcopal Church. 

In conclusion, let me give an abstract of a sketch of his charac¬ 
ter, as given by his grandson, Thomas Jefferson Randolph, who 
was the companion of his life, and who was thirty-four years o^ 
age when Mr. Jefferson died. He writes,— 

My mother was his eldest, and, for the last twenty years of his 
life, his only child. She lived with him from her birth to his 
death. I was more intimate with him than with any man I have 
ever known. His character invited such intimacy. Soft and femi¬ 
nine in his affections to his family, he entered into and sympathized 
with all their feelings, winning them to paths of virtue by the 
soothing gentleness of his manner. While he lived, and since, I 
have reviewed with severe scrutiny those interviews; and I must 
say, that I never heard from him the expression of one thought, 
feeling, or sentiment, inconsistent with the highest moral standard, 
or the purest Christian charity in the largest sense. His moral 
character was of the highest order, founded upon the purest and 
sternest models of antiquity, softened, chastened, and developed 
by ihe influence of the all-pervading benevolence of the doctrines 
of Christ, which he had intensely and admiringly studied. 

In' his contemplative moments, his mind turned to religion, 
which he studied thoroughly. He had seen and read much of the 

19 


146 


LIVES OF TEE PRESIDENTS, 


abuses and perversions of Chistianity: he abhorred those abuses 
and their authors, and denounced them without reserve. He was 
regular in his attendance on church, taking his prayer-book with 
him. He drew the plan of the Episcopal Church at Charlottes¬ 
ville, was one of the largest contributors to its erection, and con¬ 
tributed regularly to the support of its minister. I paid, after his 
death, his subscription of two hundred dollars to the erection of 
Ihe Presbyterian church in the same village. A gentleman of 
some distinction calling upon him, and expressing his disbelief in 
the truths of the Bible, his reply was, ‘ Then, sir, you have studied 
it to little purpose.’ 

He was guilty of no profanity himself, and did not tolerate it 
in others. He detested impiety; and his favorite quotation for his 
young friends, as the basis of their morals, was the fifteenth Psalm 
of David. He did not permit cards in his house: he knew no 
game with them. His family, by whom he was surrounded, and 
who saw him in all the unguarded privacy of private life, believed 
him to be the purest of men. The beauty of his character was 
exhibited in the bosom of his family, where he delighted to indulge 
in all the fervor and delicacy of feminine feeling. Before he lost 
his taste for the violin, in winter evenings he would play on it, 
having his grandchildren dancing around him. In summer, he 
would station them for their little races on the lawn, give the 
signal for the start, be the arbiter of the contest, and award the 
prizes. 

In his person, he was neat in the extreme. In early life, his 
dress, equipage, and appointments were fastidiously appropriate 
to his rank. When at Paris, Philadelphia, and Washington, his 
furniture, table, servants, equipage, and the tout ensemble of his 
establishment, were deemed highly appropriate to the position he 
held. He was a gentleman everywhere. His habits were regu¬ 
lar and systematic. He rose always at dawn. He said in his last 
illness that the sun had not caught him in bed for fifty years. He 
never drank ardent spirits or strong wines. Such was his aver¬ 
sion to ardent spirits, that when, in his last illness, his physician 
wished him to use brandy as an astringent, he could not induce 
him to take it strong enough.” 

After Mr. Jefferson’s death, the lottery plan was abandoned. 
The lands were sold; and after the disposal of the whole property, 
the proceeds not being sufficient to pay the debts, the executor 


THOMAS JEFFERSON. 


147 


met the balance from his own purse. As soon as it was known 
that his only child was thus left without any independent provis¬ 
ion, the legislatures of South Carolina and Louisiana generously 
voted her ten thousand dollars each. 

As time dispels the mists of prejudice, the fame of Thomas 
Jefferson will shine with ever-increasing lustre; and he must, in 
all the future, occupy one of the most conspicuous niches in the 
temple of American worthies. 


CHAPTER IV, 


JAMBS MADISON. 


Childhood.— Colloge-life.— Studious Habits. — Enters Public Life. — Mental Charactei* 
istics. — Aid in framing the Constitution. — In Congress. — Marriage. — Mrs. Madison. — 
Alien and Sedition Laws. — Secretary of State. — The White House. — Life in Washing¬ 
ton. — Friendship with Jefferson. — Abrogation of Titles. — Anecdote. — Chosen Presi¬ 
dent.— Right of Search. — War with England. — Re-elected. — Treaty of Ghent.— 
An'ival of the News. — Retirement to Montpelier. — Oid Age, and Death. 


The name of James Madison is inseparably connected with most 
of the important events in that heroic period of our country dur- 



MONTPELIER, — RESIDENCE OF JAMES MADISON. 


ing which the foundations of this great republic were laid. The 
Madison Family were among the earliest emigrants to this New 
World, landing upon the shores of the Chesapeake but fifteen years 
after the settlement at Jamestown. 


« 


148 













































JAMES MADISON. 


149 


The father of James Madison was an opulent planter, residing 
upon a very fine estate called “ Montpelier,’^ in Orange County, 
Va. The mansion was situated in the midst of scenery highly, 
picturesque and romantic, on the west side of South-west Mountain, 
at the foot of the Blue Ridge. It was but twenty-five miles from 
the home of Jefferson at Monticello. The closest personal and 
political attachment existed between these illustrious men, from 
their early youth until death. 

James Madison was born on the 5th of March, 1751. He was 
blessed with excellent parents; both father and mother being per¬ 
sons of intelligence and of great moral worth. The best society of 
Virginia often visited at their hospitable mansion ; and thus, from 
early life, Mr. Madison was accustomed to those refinements which 
subsequently lent such a charm to his character. His sobriety, 
and dignity of demeanor, were such, that it has been said of him 
that he never was a boy.” 

James was the eldest of a family of seven children, — four sons 
and three daughters, — all of whom attained maturity, and passed 
through life esteemed and beloved. His early education was con¬ 
ducted mostly at home, under a private tutor. He was naturally 
intellectual in his tastes, and, with but little fondness for rough, out- 
of-door sports,'consecrated himself with unusual vigor to study. 
Even when a boy, he had made very considerable proficiency in 
the Greek, Latin, French, and Spanish languages.. In the year 
1769, at the age of eighteen, he was sent to Princeton College in 
New Jersey, of which the illustrious Dr. Witherspoon was then 
president. Here he applied himself to study with the most impru¬ 
dent zeal; allowing himself, for months, but three hours’ sleep out 
of the twenty-four. His health thus became so seriously impaired, 
that he never recovered any vigor of constitution. He graduated in 
1771, at the age of twenty, with a feeble body, with a character of 
the utmost purity, and with a mind highly disciplined, and richly 
stored with all the learning which embellished, and gave eflSciency 
to, his subsequent career. 

Returning to Virginia, he commenced the study of law, and a 
CLurse of extensive and systematic reading. This educational 
course, the spirit of the times in which he lived, and the society 
with which he associated, .all combined to inspire him with a 
strong love of liberty, and to train him for his life-work of a states¬ 
man. Being naturally of a religious turn'of mind, and his frail 


150 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


health leading him to think that his life was not to be long, he 
directed especial attention to theological studies. Endowed with 
a mind singularly free from passion and prejudice, and with almost 
unequalled powers of reasoning, he weighed all the arguments for 
and against revealed religion, until his faith became so established 
as never to be shaken. 

The Church of England was then the established church in Vir¬ 
ginia,-invested with all the prerogatives and immunities which it 
enjoyed in the father-land. All were alike taxed to support its 
clergy. There was no religious liberty. Mr. Madison first appears 
before the public, associated with Mr. Jefferson, as the opponent 
of this intolerance. The battle was a fierce one. The foes of in¬ 
tolerance were denounced as the enemies of Christianity; but 
liberty triumphed, and religious freedom was established in Vir¬ 
ginia. 

In the spring of 1776, when twenty-six years of age, he was 
elected member of the Virginia Convention, to frame the Constitu¬ 
tion of the State. Being one of the youngest members of the house, 
naturally diffident, and having no ambitious aspirings to push him 
forward, he took but little part in the public debates. Like Jef¬ 
ferson, his main strength lay in his conversational influence and in 
his pen. Beal ability and worth cannot long be concealed. Every 
day, almost unconsciously to himself, he was gaining influence and 
position. The next year (1777), he was a candidate for the General 
Assembly. He refused to treat the whiskey-loving voters, and con¬ 
sequently lost his election; but those who had witnessed the 
talents, energy, and public spirit of the modest young man, en¬ 
listed themselves in his behalf, and he was appointed a member 
of the Executive Council. 

Both Patrick Henry and Thomas Jefferson were governors of 
Virginia while Mr. Madison remained member of the council; and 
their appreciation of his intellectual, social, and moral worth, con¬ 
tributed not a little to his subsequent eminence. In the year 
1780, he was elected a member of the Continental Congress. Here 
he met the most illustrious men in our land, and he was imme¬ 
diately assigned to one of the most conspicuous positions among 
them. Mr. Jefferson says of him, in allusion to the study and 
experience through which he had alrea,dy passed, — 

“ Trained in these successive schools, he acquired a habit of 
self-possession which placed at ready command the rich resources 


JAMES MADISON. 


151 


of his luminous and discriminating mind and of his extensive in¬ 
formation, and rendered him the first of every assembly afterwards 
of which he became a member. Never wandering from his sub¬ 
ject into' vain declamation, but pursuing it closely in language 
pure, classical, and copious ; soothing always the feelings of his ad¬ 
versaries by civilitiev^, and softness of expression,—^he rose to the 
eminent station which he held in the great National Convention of 
1787 ; and in that of Virginia, which followed, he sustained the 
new Constitution in all its parts, bearing off the palm against the 
logic of George Mason and the fervid declamation of Patrick 
Henry. Wjith these consummate powers were united a pure and 
spotless virtue, which no calumny has ever attempted to sully. 
Of the power and polish of his pen, and of the wisdom of his 
administration in the highest office of the nation, I need say noth¬ 
ing. They have spoken, and will forever speak, for themselves.” 

Every American citizen must reflect with pride upon the fact 
that he can point to a series of rulers over these United States 
such as no other nation on earth can boast of. Let any intelligent 
reader glance at the catalogue of kings of England, France, Spain, 
— rulers who have attained the supreme power by hereditary 
descent, — and compare them with the presidents which the elective 
franchise has given to this country, and even prejudice the most 
unbending will be compelled to admit that popular choice is far 
more unerring in the selection of rulers than the chances of birth. 
Every monarchy in Europe has had upon the throne men as 
worthless as earth has ever seen. America has not had a single 
president who has not been a man of moral and social excellence, 
who was not in heart a true patriot, and who did not honestly, 
though perhaps at times with mistaken policy, seek the promotion 
of the best interests of his country. 

For three years Mr. Madison continued in Congress, one of its 
most active and influential members. In the year 1784, his term 
having expired, he was elected a member of the Virginia Legisla¬ 
ture. Here he was the earnest supporter of every wise and liberal 
measure. He advocated the revision of the old statutes, the abro¬ 
gation of entail and primogeniture, and the establishment of per¬ 
fect religious freedom. His ‘^Memorial and Remonstrance” 
against a general assessment for the support of religion is con- 
sidered one of the ablest papers which emanated from his pen. It 
settled the question of the entire separation of church and state 
in Virginia. 


152 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS 


He still continued, in the midst of all these responsibilities, to 
prosecute with much energy his legal and literary studies. It 
was never his wish to enter upon the practice of the law; and, in 
a letter to Mr. Randolph in 1785, he says, “Another of my wishes 
is, to depend as little as possible on the labor of slaves.’^ The fol¬ 
lowing extract? from a letter of Mr. Jefferson, from Annapolis, to 
Mr. Madison; under date of Feb. 20, 1764, gives a pleasing pio- 
ture of the friendship then and ever existing between Jefferson, 
Madison, and Monroe: — 

I hope you have found access to my library. I beg you to 
make free use of it. The steward is living there now, and, of 
course, will always be in the way. Monroe is buying land almost 
adjoining me: Short will do the same. What would I not give 
could you fall into the circle ! With such a society, I could once 
more venture home, and lay myself up for the residue of life, quit¬ 
ting all its contentions, which grow daily more and more insup¬ 
portable. 

“ Think of it. To render it practicable, only requires you to think 
it so. Life is of no value but as it brings us gratifications. Among 
the most valuable of these is rational society. It informs the mind, 
sweetens the temper, cheers our spirits, and restores health. 
There is a little farm of one hundred and forty acres adjoining me, 
and within two miles, all of good land, though old, with a small, 
indifferent house upon it; the whole worth not more than two 
hundred and fifty pounds. Such a one migjit be a farm of 
experiment, and support a little table and household. Once more, 
think of it, and adieu.” 

There was a vein of pleasantry pervading the character of Mr. 
Madison, which ever rendered him to his friends one of the most 
agreeable of companions. No man felt more deeply than Mr, 
Madison the utter inefficiency of the old confederacy, with no na¬ 
tional government, with no power to form treaties which would be 
binding or to enforce law. There was not any State more promi¬ 
nent than Virginia in the declaration, that an efficient national 
government must be formed. In January, 1786, Mr. Madison car¬ 
ried a resolution through the General Assembly of Virginia, invit¬ 
ing the other States to appoint commissioners to meet in conven¬ 
tion at Annapolis to discuss this subject. Five States only were 
represented. The convention, however, issued another call, drawn 
up by Mr. Madison, urging all the States’to send their delegates to 


JAMES MADISON. 


153 


Philadelphia, in May, 1787, to draught a Constitution for the United 
States, to take the place of that Confederate League which the 
sagacity of John Adams had foretold must prove a failure. 

The delegates met at the time appointed. Every State but 
Rhode Island was represented. George Washington was chosen 
president of the convention ; and the present Constitution of the 
United States was then and there formed. 

When Charles X. was driven from France, and Louis Philippe 
was invited to take the throne, Lafayette took his hand, as they 
stood upon a balcony of the H6tel de Yille in Paris, while swarm¬ 
ing thousands were gathered around, and said, — 

“ You know that I am a republican, and that I regard the Con¬ 
stitution of the United States as the most perfect that has ever 
existed.’’ 

think as you do,” replied Louis Philippe. ^‘It is impossible 
to pass two years in the United States, as I have done, and not be 
of that opinion. But do you think, that, in the present state of 
France, a republican government can be sustained here ? ” 

“ No,” said Lafayette : ‘‘ that which is necessary for France is a 
throne, surrounded by republican institutions: all must be repub¬ 
lican.” 

When we consider the speakers and the occasion, we must re¬ 
gard this as the highest compliment ever paid to the Constitution 
of the United States; and our nation owes a debt of gratitude, 
which can never, be paid, not only to the founders of this Constitu¬ 
tion, but also to those heroic soldiers of our land, who on the field 
of battle, and with their blood, have defended it when’treason 
would have trampled it in the dust. 

There was, perhaps, no mind and no pen more active in framing 
this immortal document than the mind and the pen of James Mad¬ 
ison. Mr. Jefferson pays the following beautiful tribute to his 
character and ability : — 

‘‘ I have known him from 1779, when he first came into the pub¬ 
lic councils; and, after three and thirty years’ trial, I can say con¬ 
scientiously, that I do not know in the world a man of purer in¬ 
tegrity, more dispassionate, disinterested, and devoted to genuine 
republicanism; nor could I, in the whole scope of America and 
Europe, point out an abler* head.” 

There were two parties to be reconciled in forming the Consti¬ 
tution. The Federal party were in favor of making the Central 
20 


154 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


government strong, investing it with such powers that we shouLI 
be a compact and united nation; while they still would give the 
State governments full authority in all local matters. The Repub 
lican party would make the State governments strong, reserving for 
them all rights excepting those which it was absolutely necessary 
to surrender to the central power at Washington. The Constitu¬ 
tion, as formed, was a very harmonious blending of these two ap¬ 
parently antagonistic principles. Neither party was fully satis, 
fied with the results. The Federalists would have given the Cen¬ 
tral government more power: the Republicans would have given 
the State governments more power. And, from that time to this, 
that point has been prominent in the conflict of parties. 

Washington and John Adams strongly inclined to the Federal 
side; Jefferson, to the Republican side. ^^Mr. Madison,’^ writes 
George Washington, “ thinks an individual independence of the 
States utterly irreconcilable with their aggregate sovereignty, 
and that a consolidation of the whole into one simple republic 
would be as inexpedient as it is unattainable. He therefore pro¬ 
poses a middle ground, which may at once support a due suprem¬ 
acy of the national authority, and not exclude the local authori¬ 
ties whenever they can be subordinately useful.’^ 

During the discussion of these great questions, the views of the 
Federal party were urged in a series of letters, which then attained 
the celebrity which they have ever since held. These letters 
were signed The Federalist. Gen. Hamilton was the principal 
ivriter, though several papers were furnished by Mr. Madison and 
Mr. Jay. 

•‘^ome were in favor of electing the president and the members 
of the Senate for .life, or during good behavior, as with our judges. 
Others wished that the president might be re-elected every four 
years, like a Polish king ; and that he might thus, should the peo¬ 
ple • choose, by continual re-elections, become a life-long ruler. 
Others urged that he should serve but one term, and be forever * 
after ineligible. It has became a matter of custom only, that n«* 
president shall continue in oflSce more than two terms. In the 
convention, Mr. Madison and Gen. Washington almost invariably 
coincided in opinion. At length the Constitution was formed, and 
was adopted by a vote of eighty-nine to seventy-nine. It was then 
to be presented to the several States for acceptance. Very great 
solicitude was felt. Should it be rejected, we should be left but t 


JAMES MADISON. 


Ibb 

conglomeration of independent States, with but little power at home, 
and little respect abroad. Mr. Madison was selected by the conven¬ 
tion to draw up an address to the people of the United States, ex¬ 
pounding the principles of the Constj tution, and urging its adoption. 

In ever}^ State, there was a battle between the friends and the 
foes of the new Constitution; but at length it triumphed over all 
opposition, and went- into effect in 1789. In Virginia, it encoun¬ 
tered very formidable hostility; but Mr. Madison’s brilliant states¬ 
manship and persuasive powers secured its unconditional ratifica¬ 
tion, notwithstanding it was opposed by the brilliant rhetoric of 
Patrick Henry and the stern logic of George Mason. He was 
soon after elected a member of the House of Representatives in the 
First Congress, which then met in the old City Hall in New York, 
at the corner of Wall and Nassau Streets. Here he found himself 
drifting to the side of the Republican party in nearly all its 
measures; and yet so courteous was he in his manners, so con¬ 
ciliatory in tone, and so undeniably conscientious in his convic¬ 
tions, that he retained the affection and confidence of his former 
friends. 

Upon Mr. Jefferson’s return from France, President Washington 
earnestly solicited Mr. Madison to accept that mission; but he 
firmly declined the appointment, and also the office of Secretary of 
State, which was urged upon him. He had gradually become so 
identified with the Republican party in his principles, that he felt 
that he could not harmoniously co-operate with the majority of 
Washington’s cabinet. In 1792, Mr. Madison was the avowed 
leader of the Republican party in Congress. He sympathized with 
Mr. Jefferson in his foreign policy, gratefully cherishing the re¬ 
membrance of French intervention in our behalf, and advocating 
with all his powers of voice and pen a retaliatory policy towards 
the conduct of Great Britain. 

When President Washington was about to retire from his second 
term of office in 1797, it was the wish of many that Mr. Madison 
should be the candidate of the Republican party. Mr. Jefferson 
wrote, — 

There is not another person in the United States, with whom, 
being placed at the helm of our affairs, my mind would be so com¬ 
pletely at rest for the fortune of our political bark.” 

But Mr. Madison would not consent. His term in Congress had 
now expired, and he returned from New York to his beautiful 


156 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


retreat at Montpelier. While in Congress, he had met, in the gay 
society of New York, a young widow of remarkable powers of 
fascination, — Mrs. Todd. Her maiden name was Dolly Paine. 
She was born in North Carolina, of Quaker parents, and had been 
educated in the strictest rules of that sect. When but eighteen 
years of age, she married a young lawyer, and moved to Philadel¬ 
phia, where she was introduced to brilliant scenes of fashionable 
life. She speedily laid aside the dress and the address of the 
Quakeress, and became one of the most fascinating ladies who has 
embellished our republican court. In New York, after the death 
of her husband, she was the belle of the season, and was sur¬ 
rounded with admirers. Mr. Madison won the prize. They were 
married in 1794. He was then forty-three years of age. 

He had previously met with a serious disappointment in his 
affections. Some years before, in Philadelphia, he had become 
ardently attached to Miss Floyd, of New York, the accomplished 
daughter of one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. 
For some unexplained reason, the attachment, which seemed to be 
mutual, was broken off, to the great grief of Mr. Madison. 

The companion whom Mr. Madison had secured at this late 
hour of life proved invaluable. She was, in person and character, 
queenly. As graceful as Josephine, with a heart overflowing with 
kindness, endowed with wonderful powers of conversation, per¬ 
suasion, and entertainment, and with a face whose frankness and 
winning smiles at sight won all hearts, she contributed greatly to 
the popularity and power of her husband in the elevated sphere 
through which he afterwards moved. • 

As, in the case of Napoleon, all who wished for special favors 
felt safe if they could secure the advocacy of Josephine; so it 
was found, that, through Mrs. Madison, one could ever obtain the 
readiest access to the heart of her distinguished husband. She 
was a true and sympathizing friend of all who were in son’ow. 
Mr. Catlin, the renowned delineator of Indian life, when a young 
man, just after his marriage, was in Virginia, in the vicinity of 
Mr. Madison’s home, endeavoring to earn a living by painting 
portraits. He was poor, a stranger, in a cheerless inn, and his 
young wife was taken sick with the intermittent fever. Their 
situation was desolate indeed. But soon a lady of wonderfully 
prepossessing appearance and manners entered the chambei, 
apologized gracefully for the intrusion, introduced herself as Mrs. 


JAMES MADISON. 


157 


Madison, and, taking off bonnet and shawl, sat down by the bed¬ 
side of the sick one, cheered her with words of hope, administered 
the medicines,, and from that hour, with a sister’s tenderness, 
watched over her, and supplied her with comforts and luxuries 
until she was quite recovered. 

In Washington, she was the life of society. A group of the 
young were ever gathered around her. If there were any diffi¬ 
dent, timid young girl just making her appearance, she was sure 
to find in Mrs. Madison a supporting and encouraging friend. 
Probably no lady has thus far occupied so prominent a position in 
the very peculiar society which has constituted our republican 
court as Mrs. Madison. 

At Montpelier, in this brief season of retirement from the cares 
of office, Mr. Madison was in the enjoyment of almost every bless¬ 
ing earth can confer. His opulence enabled him to indulge in 
unbounded hospitality, and his celebrity drew to his mansion dis¬ 
tinguished guests from all lands. Mr. Madison, though a vein of 
pleasantry was intertwined with his nature, was naturally reserved 
and formal. Mrs. Madison was the charm and the life of every 
social circle in.which she appeared. The happy and harmonious 
household was truly blessed by the presence of the widowed mothers 
of both Mr. and Mrs. Madison, and two orphan sisters of Mrs. Mad¬ 
ison. Prosperity, love, distinction, all lent their charms to gild 
the scenes of this favored Virginian home. 

At the time when Mr. Madison retired from Congress, the con¬ 
dition of our country was very critical. The Jacobinical Direc¬ 
tory in France, which Napoleon afterwards overthrew, was fast 
sundering the ties of gratitude which bound us to that nation; 
and England, proud mistress of the seas, despising our infant 
navy, was treating us with indignities which America would not 
now submit to for a single hour. The Federalists had far more 
dread of France than of England, and were inclined to combine 
with England to arrest the progress of the French Revolution. 
They called the Republicans Jacobins. Party spirit ran so high, 
that, in many parts of the country, all social intercourse between 
Federalists and Republicans was broken up : even the children of 
the opposing parties were not allowed freely to associate with 
each other. The wildest tales were circulated through the coun¬ 
try, that the French Jacobins were coming over to co-operate with 
the Republicans, and overthrow our government. It is scarcely 


158 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS, , 


possible for the people of the present day to realize the frenzy of 
that delirium. 

Under its influence, in the early days of Mr. John Adams’s ad¬ 
ministration, two acts were passed, called Alien and Sedition 
Laws.” By these laws, the President was authorized, in case of 
war, made or threatened, to imprison, banish, or place under bonds, 
at his discretion, any natives or subjects of the hostile power not 
actually naturalized j and also it was decreed, that any one, who 
should unlawfully conspire to oppose any meastire of the United- 
States Government, should be punished, on legal conviction, by 
fine not exceeding five thousand dollars, or by imprisonment not 
exceeding five years. 

It was generally understood that these acts were aimed at the 
Republican party, who were in sympathy with that equality of rights 
which the French Revolution was struggling to introduce, and who 
were opposing bitterly, and sometimes with measures of doubtful 
legality, the administration of our government. These laws were 
vehemently denounced. They contributed greatly to John Adams’s 
unpopularity. To add to the excitement, a bill was introduced 
into the Senate of the United States by Mr. Lloyd of Maryland, 
which passed to a second reading by a vote of fourteen to eight, 
declaring the people of France to be enemies of the United States, 
and adherence to them, or giving them aid and comfort, punishable 
with death. 

Mr. Jefierson was so roused by these measures, that he drew 
up some resolutions, the -authorship of which was for many years 
kept secret, but which were adopted by the Legislature of Ken¬ 
tucky, so determined in their character, that his enemies have 
charged him with advocating nullification and violent resistance. 
Mr. Madison, though repudiating every thing like nullification, 
drew up resolutions, which were carried by a large majority 
through the Virginia Legislature, denouncing the acts with great 
severity. The legislatures of other States, however, warmly 
supported the acts as both constitutional and needful. Mr. Mad¬ 
ison’s writings upon this subject are by all admitted to exhibit 
masterly vigor; and, in their advocacy of a strict construction” 
of the Constitution, they became the text-book of his party. 

But the storm passed away. The Alien and Sedition Laws were 
repealed. John Adams lost his re-election. Thomas Jefierson 
was chosen President in 1801, and the Republicans came into 


JAMES MADISON. 


159 


power. The new President immediately appointed his friend, 
Mr. Madison, Secretary of State. With great ability he discharged 
the duties of this onerous and responsible office during the whole 
eight years of Mr. Jefierson’s administration. This summoiivAl him 
from his happy home in Virginia to Washington. 

As Mr. Jefferson was a widower, and neither of his daughters 
could be often with him, Mrs. Madison usually presided over the 
festivities of the White House; and as her husband succeeded 
Mr. Jefferson, holding his office for two terms, this very remark¬ 
able woman was, in reality, the mistress of the presidential mansion 
for sixteen years. The White House, our republican palace, was 
then a very shabby affair. The building, but half completed, 
stood in a pasture of old oaks, surrounded by rough masses of 
stone and piles of lumber, and other accumulations of unsightly 
materials. It was, indeed, solitary and alone, looking far more 
like an abandoned ruin than a rising palace. 

Far away in the distance stood the Capitol Hill, surrounded by 
groves, forests, and wide-spreading plains, with a few houses or 
huts scattered here and there at most unsocial distances. The 
crowd which flocked to Washington from our widely extended 
and rapidly increasing country came with all their provincial 
peculiarities. It was a motley throng. But wonderful harmony 
pervaded Mr. Jefferson’s cabinet. We were,” he writes, one 
family.” The stately forms of etiquette which were congenial 
to the tastes of Presidents Washington and Adams were now laid 
aside, and the simplicity of private life reigned in the presidential 
mansion. 

Mr. Madison being entirely engrossed by the cares of his office, 
all the duties of social life devolved upon his accomplished wife. 
Never were such responsibilities more ably and delightfully dis¬ 
charged. Every visitor left her with the impression of having 
been the object of peculiar attention as an especial favorite. She 
never forgot a face or a name. The most bitter foes of her hus¬ 
band and of the administration were received with the frankly 
proffered hand and the cordial smile of welcome. This was not 
policy merely: it was the resistless outflowing of her own loving 
nature. Her house was plainly furnished ; her dress, though ele¬ 
gant, simple; and the influence of this gentle woman, in allaying 
the bitterness of party rancor, became a great and salutary power 
in the nation. 


160 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


Mr. Madison’s correspondence, while Secretary of State, witn 
foreign ambassadors and our ministers at foreign courts, constitute 
a very important part of the history of President Jefferson’s ad¬ 
ministration. There is not any nation which can exhibit a more able 
series of state-papers than came from his pen. 

, It is the genius of our country to reject pompous titles : we 
have laid them aside with the powdered wigs and scarlet coats of 
other days. But no other land can exhibit a more brilliant cata¬ 
logue of truly great men, — of Nature’s noblemen. Washington, 
Adams, Jefferson, Madison, and a host of others in the galaxy of 
American worthies, have a fame more durable than sculptured 
marble, or molten brass, or monumental granite. Theirs is a no¬ 
bility not of hereditary descent, and mouldy parchments, and un¬ 
earned laurels, but a nobility of heroic achievement, which shall 
be recognized through all the ages, and, like the untitled stars, 
shall shine forever. 

As the term of Mr. Jefferson’s presidency drew near its close, 
party rancor was roused to the utmost in the strife to elect his 
successor. It was like a death-grapple between the two great 
parties, the Federal and the Republican. Mr. Madison was not an 
emotional man. He stood,^like the peak of Teneriffe in a storm, 
undisturbed by the howl of the gale and the dash of the wave. 
Strong in honesty which he knew to be unimpeachable, he con¬ 
templated, in imperturbable serenity, assaults of the press which 
would have driven many men frantic. Mrs. Madison, in accordance 
with her husband’s wishes, continued to exercise the rites of hos¬ 
pitality without regard to party politics. The chiefs of the differ¬ 
ent parties met in her parlor, and all alike shared in the smiles 
and kindly greetings which made that parlor so attractive. 

The unintelligent are easily deceived by tinsel. Even incur, 
land, where education was so generally diffused, the barbers of 
Washington judged of the merits of great men by the length of 
their cues and the amount of powder on their hair. The morning 
after Mr. Madison was nominated for President, a barber in Wash¬ 
ington, addressing a senat or whom he was shaving, said, — 

Surely this country is doomed to disgrace and ruin. What 
Presidents we might have, sir! Just look at Daggett of Connecti¬ 
cut, and Stockton of New Jersey! What cues they have got, 
sir! as big as your wrist, and powdered every day, like real gentle¬ 
men as they are. Such men would confer dignity on the station. 


JAMES MADISON. 


161 


But this little Jim Madison, with a cue no bigger than a pipe- 
stem, sir, — it is enough to make a man forswear his countiy I 

Out of one hundred and seventy-five electoral votes, Mr. Madi¬ 
son received one hundred and twenty-two, and with this handsome 
majority took his seat as President on the 4th of March, 1809. The 
encroachments of England had brought us to the verge of war. 
British orders in council destroyed our commerce, and our flag 
was exposed to constant insult. The British minister, Mr. Er- 
skine, who was disposed to be conciliatory, was recalled, and a 
Mr. Jackson, a man of insolent address, was sent to occupy his 
place. He became so unbearable, that the Secretary of State was 
directed to hold no further communication with him, and the Brit¬ 
ish Government was requested to withdraw him. This was done ; 
but no one was sent in his place. Congress, in its extreme dis¬ 
pleasure, passed a resolution declaring the official communications 
of Mr. Jackson as having been highly indecorous and insolent, 
approving the conduct of the Executive in requesting his recall, 
and passing an act of non-intercourse with both Eugland and 
France, — with the latter power in consequence of the Berlin and 
Milan decrees. Napoleon immediately revoked those decrees, send¬ 
ing word to our Government that they had not been issued out of 
any unfriendly feeling to us, but as a necessary measure of retal¬ 
iation against the atrocious orders in council which England had 
issued. 

The act of non-intercourse now remained in full force against 
England alone. Mr. Madison was a man of peace. Scholarly in 
his tastes, retiring in his disposition, war had no charms for him. 
But the meekest spirit can be roused. It makes one^s blood boil, 
even now, to think of an American ship brought to, upon the ocean, 
by the guns of an English cruiser. A young lieutenant steps on 
board, and orders the crew to be paraded before him. With great 
nonchalance, he selects any number whom he may please io desig¬ 
nate as British subjects; orders them down the ship’s side into 
his boat; and places them on the gun-deck of his man-of-war, to 
fight, by compulsion, the battles of England. This right of search 
and impressment no efibrts of our Government could induce the 
British cabinet to relinquish. 

There was a popular meeting held in the city of New York on 
the 26th of April, 1806; when the resolution was unanimously 
passed, That the suflering foreign armed ships to station them- 
21 


f 


162 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 



Where resistance was attempted, the impressment was con¬ 
ducted with unsparing severity. The cudgel and the cutlass were 
Ireely used. Those who refused to submit were scourged, placed 
in irons, and scourged again on the raw wounds until they suc¬ 
cumbed. It was proved by official records that more than a thou- 
ftand American citizens were thus torn from home and friends, 
many of whom were compelled for years to man British guns, and 
were thus forced, when the war between the United States and 
England was opened, to fight against their own flag. No govern¬ 
ment could be worthy of respect which would not at least attempt 
to protect its citizens from such .outrages. 

The following case illustrates that of hundreds. Hiram Thayer 
was born in Greenwich, Conn. He was a young man of sobriety, 


selves off our harbor, and there to stop, search, and capture our 
vessels, to impress, wound, and murder our citizens, is a gross and 
criminal neglect of the highest duties of government; and that an 
administration which patiently permits the same is not entitled to 
the confidence of a‘brave and free people.’’ 










JAMES MADISON. 


168 


industry, high moral worth, and was greatly endeared to his 
friends. He was impressed in 1803, with barbarity which would 
have disgraced an Algerine courser. For five years, in the war 
which England was then waging against France, he was compelled 
to serve the British cannon. In 1805, he was transferred on board 
the British frigate “ Statira.’’ In reply to his remonstrances, he was 
told, that, if he were not submissive and obedient, he should be 
tied to the mast, and shot at like a dog.” He contrived to get a 
letter to his father. His friends exerted themselves to the utmost 
to obtain his release. Gen. Lyman, the American consul at Lon¬ 
don, applied to the Lords Commissioners in vain for his discharge. 
Certificates of his nativity were exhibited from the selectmen, 
town-clerk, and parish .minister of his native town. 

Still he was held in British slavery all through our second war 
with England, compelled to fight against his own countrymen. On 
the 14th of March, 1814, Commodore Decatur sent the father, under 
a flag of truce, on board The Statira,” which was then one of the 
British blockading squadron off New London. Commodore Deca- 
tur sent with the flag a note to Capt. Capel of The Statira,” saying 
^Hhat he felt persuaded that the application of the father, furnished 
as he was with conclusive evidence of the nativity and identity of 
his son, would induce an immediate order for his discharge.” The 
interview between the father and the son, after eleven years of 
separation, was most affecting. There was not a doubt, in the 
mind of a single British officer, of Hiram Thayer’s being an Amer¬ 
ican citizen; but they refused to release him, alleging simply 
that they had no authority to do so. The unhappy man was still 
detained in this slavery, as atrocious as ever disgraced a Cuban 
plantation. Not long after this, he fell overboard, and was drowned. 
A trunk containing portions of his clothing were the only memo¬ 
rials of their loved son which were ever returned to his affiicted 
parents. 

On the 18th of June, 1812, President Madison gave his approval 
to an act of Congress declaring war against Great Britain. Not¬ 
withstanding the bitter hostility of the Federal party to the war, 
the country in general approved; and Mr. Madison, on the 4th of 
March, 1813, was re-elected by a large majority, and entered upon 
his second term of office. This is not the place to describe the 
various adventures of this war on the land and on the water. Our 
infant navy then laid the foundations of its renown in grappling 


i64 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


witli the most formidable power which ever swept the seas. The 
contest commenced in earnest by the appearance of a British fleet, 
early in February, 1813, in Chesapeake Bay, declaring nearly the 
whole coast of the United States under blockade. 

The Emperor of Russia offered his services as mediator.. Amer¬ 
ica accepted; England refused. A British force of five thousand 
men landed on the banks of the Patuxent River, near its entrance 
into Chesapeake Bay, and marched rapidly, by way of Bladens- 
burg, upon Washington. There was no sufficient force in the 
vicinity to resist them. Gen. Winder was in command of a few 
regular troops and some regiments of militia. 

The straggling little city of Washington was thrown into con¬ 
sternation. The cannon of the brief conflicbat Bladensburg echoed 
through the streets of the metropolis. The whole population fled 
from the city. The President, leaving Mrs. Madison in the White 
House, with her carriage drawn up at the door to await his speedy 
return, hurried to meet the officers in a council of war. He met 
our troops utterly routed, and could not go back without danger 
of being captured. She writes to her sister, under date of Wednes¬ 
day, Aug. 12, 1814, twelve o^clock at noon, — 

Since sunrise, I have been turning my spy-glass in every 
direction, and watching with unwearied anxiety, hoping to discern 
the near approach of my dear husband and his friends; but, alas ! 
I can dnscry only groups of military wandering in all directions, 
as if there was a lack of arms, or of spirit to fight for their own 
firesides. 

“ Three o'clock. — Will you believe it, my sister? we have had a 
battle, or skirmish, near Bladensburg; and I am still here, within 
sound of the cannon. Mr. Madison comes not: may God protect 
him ! Two messengers, covered with dust, came to bid me fly ; 
but I wait for him. At this late hour, a wagon has been procured. 
I have had it filled with the plate and the most valuable portable 
articles belonging to the house. Whether it will reach its desti¬ 
nation, — the Bank of Maryland, — or fall into the bands of British 
soldiery, events must determine. 

But a few hours elapsed ere the Presidential Mansion, the Capitol, 
and all the public buildings in Washington, were in flames. A 
few months after this great humiliation, the British made an 
attempt upon New Orleans. They were repulsed by Gen. Jack- 
soQ with great slaughter. Napoleon was now overpowered. The 


JAMES MADISON. 


166 

allied despots were triumphant, and, assembled in Congress at 
Vienna, were partitioning out the re-enslaved nations of Europe 
between them. Their one great object was so to divide Europe, 
that the people should not again have the opportunity to rise 
against the old regimes of tyranny. Truthfully does The British 
Quarterly say, — 

The treaties of Vienna of 1815, though the most desperate 
efforts have been made by the English diplomatists to embalm 
them a*s monuments of political wisdom, are fast becoming as dead 
as those of Westphalia. In fact, they should be got under ground 
with all possible despatch; for no compacts so worthless, so 
wicked, so utterly subversive of the rights of humanity, are to be 
found in the annals of nations.” 

England was the leading power in this Congress. The British 
cabinet, flushed with victory, was never more arrogant than then. 
England was now prepared to turn her whole immense armament 
against our country. We were sadly divided among ourselves. The 
New-England States were so hostile to the war, as seriously to 
embarrass the Government. Never was our country enveloped in 
deeper gloom. Commissioners had been sent to Ghent to obtain 
peace with the British crown, if it could possibly be obtained on 
any reasonable terms. 

About noon of the 13th of February, 1815, a strange rumor was 
found floating through Washington, — that a treaty of peace had 
been signed at Ghent. Gathering strength as it flew, the whole 
city was soon in a state of the most intense excitement. Whence 
came the story, no one could satisfactorily tell. At length, after 
diligent inquiring, it appeared that a private express had rapidly 
passed through the city, bearing the important tidings to merchants 
in the South. Still it was but a rumor. Mr. Gales, editor of “ The 
National Intelligencer,” anxious to obtain some reliable informar 
tion upon an event so momentous, called upon President Madison. 
He found him sitting alone, in the dusk of the evening, apparently 
pondering the prodigious change which the news, if true, would 
produce in public affairs. 

The President, always affable, never excited, was inclined to 
credit the report. He knew that mercantile zeal might outrun 
political ardor. His manner was so composed, his spirits so tran¬ 
quil and unruffled, that one not acquainted with his perfect power 
over himself might have supposed it a matter of much indifferent® 
to him whether the report were true or false. 


166 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


Information then, when there were neither railroads nor tele¬ 
graph wires, travelled slowly. It was not until late in the after¬ 
noon of the next day, that a coach, drawn by four foaming horses, 
came thundering down Pennsylvania Avenue, with official commu 
nication of the glad tidings. What pen can describe the excite¬ 
ment of that hour, as cheers burst from all lips ? The drawing-room 
at the President’s mansion was speedily thronged. Mrs. Madison 
was there, radiant with joy, the President being absent with his 
cabinet. In a moment, to use the expressive phrase of John 
Adams, the country had passed from gloom to glory.^’ 

No one rejoiced more heartily than did President Madison. It 
had been with the utmost reluctance that he had been forced into 
a war. England did not relinquish her claim of the “ right of 
search; ” but, as there was peace in Europe, there was no longer 
any motive to continue the practice. It was, of course, inexpedient 
for the United States to persist in the war for a mere abstraction. 
It is safe to say that Great Britain will never again undertake to 
drag a man from the protecting folds of the stars and stripes. 
Americans of all coming ages will revere the memory of James 
Madison for resisting such wrongs. I am an American citizen 
will henceforth be an argument which will command the respect 
of the world. 

On the 4th of March, 1817, his second term of office expired, 
and he resigned the presidential chair to his friend James Monroe. 
Happy in his honorable release from the cares of state, he retired 
to the leisure and repose of his beautiful retreat at Montpelier. 
He was within a day’s ride of Monticello, and was thus, in the esti¬ 
mation of a Virginian, a near neighbor of Mr. Jefferson. Here, in 
his paternal home, imbosomed among the hills, a victor in life’s 
stern battle, he passed peacefully the remainder of his days. 

The mansion was large and commodious, situated at the base of 
a high and wooded hill. A fine garden behind the house, and a 
spacious lawn in front, contributed their embellishments to the 
rural scene, where over countless acres the undulating expanse 
was covered with the primeval forest. The venerable mother of 
Mr. Madison still resided with her son, the object of his unceasing 
and most affectionate attentions. One wing of the mansion was 
appropriated to her. 

“ By only opening a door,” writes a visitor, “ the observer passed 
from the elegances, refinements, and g^yeties of modern life, into 


\ JAMES MA DISOX. 


167 


all that was venerable, respectable,-and dignified in gone-by days; 
Trom the airy apartments, windows opening to the ground, hung 
with light silken drapery, French furniture, light fancy chairs, gay 
carpets, to the solid and heavy carved and polished mahogany 
furniture darkened by age, the thick, rich curtains, and other more 
comfortable adjustments, of our great-grandfathers’ times.” 

Mr. Madison’s health was delicate. He was much beloved by 
his neighbors and friends; and, though his union had not been 
blessed with children, his accomplished and amiable wife was ever 
to him a source of the greatest happiness. Nineteen years of life 
still remained to him. He seldom left his home, though he took 
much interest in the agricultural prosperity of the country, and very 
cordially co-operated with President Jefferson in watching over 
the affairs of the university at Charlottesville. 

In 1829, he consented to become a member of the convention 
at Richmond to revise the Constitution of the State. Small in 
stature, slender and delicate in form, with a countenance full of 
intelligence*, and expressive alike of mildness and dignity, he 
attracted the attention of all who attended the convention, and was 
treated with the utmost deference. He seldom addressed the 
'assembly, though he always appeared self-possessed, and watched 
with unflagging interest the progress of every measure. Though 
the convention sat for sixteen weeks, he spoke but twice; but, 
when he did speak, the whole house paused to listen. His voice 
was feeble, though the enunciation was very distinct. One of the 
reporters — Mr. Stansbury — relates the following anecdote of 
the last speech he made. Having carefully written out the speech, 
he sent the manuscript to President Madison for his revision. 

The next day, as there was a great call for ‘it, and the report 
had not been returned for publication, I sent my son with a 
respectful note, requesting the manuscript. My son was a lad of 
about sixteen, whom I had taken with me to act as amanuensis. 
On delivering my note, he was received with the utmost politeness, 
and requested to come up into Mr. Madison’s chamber, and wait 
while he ran his eye over the paper, as company had, until that 
moment, prevented his attending to it. He did so; and Mr. 
Madison sat down, pen in hand, to correct the report. The lad 
stood near him, so that his eye fell on the paper. Coming to a 
certain sentence in the speech, Mr. Madison struck out a word, 
and substituted another; but hesitated, and, not feeling quite 
satisfied with the second word, drew his pen through it also. 


4 


168 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

“ My son was young, ignorant of the world, and unconscious of 
the solecism of which he was about to be guilty, when, in all sim¬ 
plicity, he suggested a word. Yes, he ventured, boy that he was, 
to suggest to James Madison an improvement in his own speech ! 
Probably no other individual then living would have taken such a 
liberty. But the sage, instead of regarding such an intrusion with 
a frown, raised his eyes to the boy’s face with a pleased surprise, 
and said, ^ Thank you, sir; it is the very word,’ and immediately 
inserted it. I saw him the next day, and he mentioned the cir¬ 
cumstance, with a compliment on the young critic.” 

On the 28th of June, 1836, Mr. Madison, then eighty-five years 
of age, fell asleep in death. His memory is embalmed in a nation’s 
veneration and gratitude. Like all public men, exposed to much 
obloquy in his political life, that obloquy has now so passed away, 
that we can scarcely believe that it ever existed. In a glowing 
tribute to his memory, uttered by the venerable ex-Presideiit John 
Quincy Adams, the following words, eloquent in their truthfulness, 
were uttered: — 

Of that band of benefactors of the human race, the founders of 
the Constitution of the United States, James Madison is the last 
who has gone to his reward. Their glorious work has survived 
them all. They have transmitted the precious bond to us, now 
entirely a succeeding generation to them. May it never cease to 
be a voice of admonition to us, of our duty to transmit the inher¬ 
itance unimpaired to our children of the rising age ! ” 

Mrs. Madison survived her husband thirteen years, and died on 
the 12th of July, 1849, in the eiglity-second year of her age. She 
was one of the most remarkable women our country has produced ; 
and it is fitting that her memory should descend to posterity in 
company with that of the companion of her life. 


CHAPTER V. 



were rival candidates for some local office. The friends of br‘th 
parties were exhausting their energies to bring every voter to the 

polls. A very infirm and aged man was transported from a con- 

22 169 


JAMES MONROE. 

Parentage and Birth. — Education. — Enters the Army. — A Legislator. — A Senator. — Po- 
liticaf Views.—Mission to France. — Bonaparte. — Purchase of Louisiana. — Unfriend¬ 
liness of England. — Prospective Greatness of America. — Washington’s Views of the 
French Revolution. — Col. Monroe Governor. — Secretary both of War and of State. — 
Elected to the Presidency. — Northern Tour. — Purchase‘of Spain. — Sympathy with 
Revolutionary Soldiers. — The Monroe Doctrine. — Retirement and Death. 

Many years ago, there was a hotly contested election in Vir¬ 
ginia, when two young men, James Madison and James Monroe^ 


RESIDENCK OF JAMES MONUOK. 

































170 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


siderable distance, in a wagon, by the friends of Mr. Madison. As 
lie was sitting in the building, waiting for his opportunity to vote, 
the name of James Monroe struck his half-paralyzed ear. He 
started up, and inquired if James Monroe was the son of the man 
cf that name who some years ago lived and died in the province. 
Upon being told that he was the grandson of that person, the old 
man exclaimed with emotion, — 

Then I shall vote for James Monroe. His grandfather be¬ 
friended me when I first came into the country, fed me and oiothed 
me, and I lived in his house. I do not know James Madison. I 
shall vote for James Monroe.^’ 

Virtues seem to be often hereditary. That same spirit of be¬ 
nevolence which prompted the grandfather to feed and clothe and 
shelter the child of want descended to his children and his chil¬ 
dren’s children. The Monroe Family were among the first who 
emigrated to this country, and selected their home in what is now 
Westmoreland County, Va., — that beautiful expanse of fertile 
land which is spread out on the western banks of the Potomac. 
They were the near neighbors of the Washington Family; and, 
being the owners of a large estate, were in comparative opulence. 

James Monroe, who became fifth President of the United States, 
was born upon his father’s plantation on the 28th of April, 1758. 
At that time, Virginia presented an aspect somewhat resembling 
feudal Europe in the middle ages. Here and there, in wide dis¬ 
persion, were to be seen the aristocratic mansions of the planters, 
while near by were clustered the cheerless hovels of the poor and 
debased laborers. There were intelligence, culture, luxury, in the 
saloons of the master; debasement, ignorance, barbarism, in the 
cabin gf the slaves. 

James Monroe, in childhood, like all his predecessors thus far^ 
ill the presidential chair, enjoyed all the advantages of educa¬ 
tion which the country could then afibrd. He was early sent 
to a very fine classical school, and at the age of sixteen entered 
William and Mary College. It was his intention to study law. 
But the cloud of the great Revolution which sundered the colonies 
from the mother-country was gathering blackness ; and young 
Monroe, an earnest, impetuous, vigorous youth, whose blood 
coursed fiercely through his veins, could not resist his impatience 
to become an active participator in the scenes which were opening. 

In 1776, when he had been in college but two years, the 


JAMES MONROE. 


171 


Declaration of Independence was adopted, and our feeble militia, 
without arms or ammunition or clothing, were struggling against 
the trained armies of England. James Monroe left college, has¬ 
tened to Gen. Washington’s headquarters at New York, and en¬ 
rolled himself as a cadet in the army. 

It was one of the gloomiest hours in our history. The British 
were sweeping all before them. Our disheartened troops were de¬ 
serting in great numbers; and the Tories, favoring the cause of Eng¬ 
land, were, daily becoming more boastful and defiant. But James 
Monroe belonged to the class of the indomitable. With courage 
which never faltered, he took his place in the ranks. Firmly yet 
sadly he shared in the melancholy retreat from Harlaem Heights 
and White Plains, and accompanied the dispirited army as it fled 
before its foes through New Jersey. In four months after the. 
Declaration of Independence, the patriots had been beaten in seven 
battles. 

At Trenton, Lieut. Monroe so distinguished himself, receiving 
a wound in his shoulder, that he was promoted to a captaincy. 
Upon recovering from his wound, he was invited to act as aide to 
Lord Sterling; and in that capacity he took an active part in the 
battles of Brandywine, Germantown, and Monmouth. At German¬ 
town, he stood by the side of Lafayette when the French marquis 
received his wound. Gen. Washington, who had formed a high idea 
of young Monroe’s abilities, sent him to Virginia to raise a new 
regiment, of which he was to be colonel; but so exhausted was 
Virginia at that time, that the efibrt proved unsuccessful. He, how¬ 
ever, received his commission. » 

Finding no opportunity to enter the army as a commissioned 
ofiicer, he returned to his original plan of studying law, and 
entered the office of Thomas Jefferson, who was then Governor 
of Virginia. Mr. Jefferson had a large and admirable library, and 
inspired his pupil with zeal for study. He developed a very noble 
character, frank, manly, sincere. Abounding with kindliness of feel¬ 
ing, and scorning every thing ignoble, he won the love of all who 
knew him. Mr. Jefferson said of him,— 

James Monroe is so perfectly honest, that, if his soul were 
turned inside out, there would not be found a spot on it.” 

In 1782, when but twenty-three years of age, he was elected 
to the Assembly of Virginia, and was also appointed a member of 
the Executive Council. The next year, he was chosen delegate to 


172 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


the Continental Congress for a term of three years. He was pres¬ 
ent at Annapolis when Washington surrendered his commission of 
commander-in-chief. Young as Col. Monroe was, he proved him¬ 
self in Congress a very efficient man of business. 

With Wasliington, Jefferson, and Madison, he felt deeply the in¬ 
efficiency of the old Articles of Confederation, and urged the for¬ 
mation of a new Constitution, which should invest the Central 
Government with something like national power. Influenced by 
these views, he introduced a resolution that Congress, should be 
empowered to regulate trade, and to lay an impost-duty of five 
per cent. The resolution was referred to a committee of which 
he was chairman. The report, and the discussion which rose 
upon it, led to the convention of five States at Annapolis, and the 
subsequent general convention at Philadelphia, which, in 1787, 
draughted the Constitution of the United States. 

At this time, there was a controversy between New York and 
Massachusetts in reference to their boundaries. The high esteem 
in which Col. Monroe was held is indicated by the fact that he 
was appointed one of the judges to decide the controversy. While 
in New York attending Congress, he formed a matrimonial connec¬ 
tion with Miss Kortright, a young lady distinguished alike for her 
beauty and her accomplishments. For nearly fifty years this hap¬ 
py union continued unbroken, a source of almost unalloyed hap¬ 
piness to both of the parties. In London and in Paris, as in her 
own country, Mrs. Monroe won admiration and affection by the 
loveliness of her person, the brilliancy of her intellect, and the 
amiability of her character. 

Returning to Virginia, Col. Monroe commenced the practice 
of law at Fredericksburg. He was almost immediately elected 
to a seat in the State Legislature; and the next year he was 
chosen a member of the Virginia Convention, which was as¬ 
sembled to decide upon the acceptance or rejection of the Consti¬ 
tution which had been drawn up at Philadelphia, and was now 
submitted to the several States. Deeply as he felt the imperfec¬ 
tions of the old Confederacy, he was opposed to the new Constitu¬ 
tion, thinking, with many others of the Republican party, that it 
gave too much power to the Central Government, and not enough 
to the individual States. Still he retained the esteem of his friends, 
who were its 'warm supporters, and who, notwithstanding his op¬ 
position, secured its adoption. In.1789, he became-a member of 


JAMES MONROE, 


173 


the United-States Senate; which office he held acceptably to his 
constituents, and with honor to himself, for four years. Every 
month, the line of distinction between the two great parties which 
divided the nation, the Federal and the Republican, was growing 
more distinct. The two prominent ideas which now separated 
them were, that the Republican party was in sympathy with 
France, and was also in favor of such a strict construction of the 
Constitution as to give the Central Government as little power, and 
the State Governments as much power, as the Constitution would 
warrant. The Federalists sympathized with England, and were 
in favor of a liberal construction of the Constitution, which would 
give as much power to the Central Government as that document 
could possibly authorize. 

Mr. Monroe, having opposed the Constitution as not leaving 
enough power with the States, of course became more and more 
identified with the Republican party. Thus he found himself 
in cordial co-operation with Jefferson and Madison. The great 
Republican party became the dominant power which ruled the 
land. But we can imagine the shades of John Adams and Alex¬ 
ander Hamilton rising from their graves in the midst of our 
awful civil war, and exclaiming, sadly yet triumphantly, “Did we 
not tell you so ? Has it not been that very doctrine of State sover¬ 
eignity which has plunged our land into this conflict? and have 
you not found it necessary, that you iliight save the country from 
destruction, to arm the Constitution with those very powers which 
we were so anxious to stamp upon it?” 

The leading Federalists and Republicans were alike noble men, 
consecrating all their energies to the good of the nation. Two 
more honest men or more pure patriots than John Adams the 
Federalist, and James Monroe the Republican, never breathed. In 
building up this majestic nation, which is destined to eclipse all 
Grecian and Assyrian greatness, the combination of their antago¬ 
nisms was needed to create the right equilibrium. And yet each, 
in his day, was denounced as almost a demon. Let this considerar 
tion, hereafter, allay the biterness of party-strife. 

George Washington was then President. England had espoused 
the cause of the Bourbons against the principles of the French 
Revolution. All Europe was drawn into the conflict. We were 
feeble, and far away. President Washington issued a proclama¬ 
tion of neutrality between these contending powers. France had 



174 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


helped us in the struggle for our liberties. All the despotisms of 
Europe were now combined to prevent the French from escaping 
from tyranny a thousand-fold worse than that which we had endured. 
Col. Monroe, more magnanimous than prudent, was anxious that, 
at whatever hazard, we should help our old allies in their extrem¬ 
ity. It was the impulse of a generous and a noble nature. He 
violently opposed the President’s proclamation, as ungrateful, and 
wanting in magnanimity. 

Washington, who could appreciate such a character, developed 
his calm, serene, almost divine greatness, by appointing that very 
James Monroe, who was denouncing the policy of the Government, 
as the minister of that Government to the republic of France. 
He was directed by Washington to express to the French people 
our warmest sympathy, communicating to them corresponding 
resolves approved by the President, and adopted by both houses 
of Congress, 

Mr. Monroe was welcomed by the National Convention in 
France with the most enthusiastic demonstrations of respect and 
affection. He was publicly introduced to that body, and received 
the embrace of the president, Merlin de Douay, after having been 
addressed in a speech glowing with congratulations, and with ex¬ 
pressions of desire that harmony might ever exist between the 
two countries. The flags of the two republics were intertwined 
in the hall of the convention. Mr. Monroe presented the Ameri¬ 
can colors, and received those of France in return. The course 
which he pursued in Paris was so annoying to England, and to 
the friends of England in this country, that, near the close of 
Washington’s administration, Mr. Monroe was recalled. 

Mr. Pickering, Secretary of State, who was a fanatical hater of 
France, and proportionably an adulator of England, sent an angry 
despatch to Mr. Monroe, charging him with expressing a solici¬ 
tude for the welfare of the French republic in a style too warm 
and affectionate, hy which we were likely to give offence to other 
countries, particularly to England.” 

In reply to this, Mr. Monroe states in his View/’ the instruc¬ 
tions he received from Washington, which are interesting as show 
ing the personal feelings of Washington towards France. He 
writes,— 

“ My instructions enjoined it on me to use my utmost endeavors 
to inspire the French Government with perfect confidence in the 


JAMES MONROE. 


175 


solicitude which the President felt for the success of the French 
Revolution; of his preference of France to all other nations, as the 
friend and ally of the United States; of the grateful sense which 
we still retained for the important services that were rendered us 
by France in the course of our Revolution; and to declare in ex¬ 
plicit terms, that although neutrality was the lot we preferred, 
yet, in case we embarked in the war, it would be on her side, and 
against her enemies, be they who they might.’’ 

In 1796, President Washington addressed the French minister 
in the following words : My best wishes are irresistibly excited, 
whensoever, in any country, I see an oppressed nation unfurl the 
banner of freedom; but, above all, the events of the French Revo¬ 
lution have produced the deepest solicitude as well as the high¬ 
est admiration. To call your nation brave, were to pronounce but 
common praise. Wonderful people! Ages to come will read with 
astonishment your brilliant exploits. In delivering to you these 
sentiments, I express not my feelings only, but those of my fellow- 
citizens, in relation to the commencement, the progress, and the 
issue of the French Revolution.” 

All despotic Europe combined against the enfranchised nation. 
In the frenzy of the unequal fight, France was plunged into anar¬ 
chy ; from which she was rescued by Napoleon, into whose impe¬ 
rial arms, in her dire necessity, she had cast herself. And then 
all despotic Europe turned its arms against that one man. He 
was crushed. The unfurled banner of “Equal Rights,” which he 
had so grandly borne aloft, was trampled in the dust; and subju¬ 
gated France again bowed her neck to the old feudal tyranny. 

While Mr. Monroe was our minister in France, Mr. Jay, with 
strong English proclivities, was our ambassador at the court of 
St. James. He was ever ready to enter into a commercial treaty 
which would favor that country at the expense of our old ally. 
Mr. J^iy, with other men of his party, scouting the idea that any 
thanks were due to France for the aid she had rendered us in the 
Revolution, was not disposed to discriminate in the least in her 
favor. Hence there was intense antagonism between Col. Monroe 
and Mr. Jay. 

Col. Monroe, after his return, wrote a book of four hundred 
pages, entitled “ A View of the Conduct of the Executive in 
Foreign Affairs.” In this work, he very ably advocated his side 
of the question: but, with magnanimity characteristic of the man. 


176 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


he recorded a warm tribute to the patriotism, ability, and spotless 
integrity, of John Jay; and, in subsequent years, he expressed 
in warmest terms his perfect veneratioji for the character of 
George Washington. 

Shortly after his return to this country. Col. Monroe was 
elected Governor of Virginia, and held that office for three years, 
— the period limited by the Constitution. In the year 1802, it was 
announced that Spain had ceded to France that vast territory, ex¬ 
tending from the Mississippi to the Pacific, which was called 
Louisiana. Kanoleon, then at the head of the armies of revolu- 
tionary France, with Liberte, Fraternite, Egalite,’^ inscribed on 
their banners, was trampling down those despots who had banded 
together to force back the execrated old regime of the Bourbons 
upon the emancipated empire. Most of our knowledge of what 
was transpiring on the continent of Europe came to us through the 
English press. Never had a story bee# more falsely told than 
that press had narrated, — the struggle Sf the French people for 
equal rights, in the revolution and in the establishment of the 
empire. 

The name of Bonaparte became a terror throughout the United 
States. Mothers frightened their disobedient children with the 
threat that Bonaparte would get them. It was proclaimed that 
the conqueror of Europe had only reserved us as his last victim ; 
that, taking possession of this vast territory of Louisiana, and land¬ 
ing upon it countless legions of his triumphant veterans, he would 
sweep the country from New Orleans to Canada, establish his em¬ 
pire here, and trample our liberties in the dust. The writer of this 
well remembers his terror, when a child, in contemplation of this 
invasion by that Napoleonic monster whom we had been taught to 
regard as the embodiment of all evil. 

Mr. Livingston was then our minister to France. He drew up 
a very able memorial to the First Consul, arguing that it would be 
for the true interest of both countries that France should cede the 
province of Louisiana to the United States. It was so manifest 
that the United States must have the control of the mouths of the 
Mississippi, through which alone the most majestic valley on our 
globe could have access to the ocean, that our most sagacious 
statsmen felt assured, that, if we could not obtain this province 
by treaty, it would inevitably involve us ere long in war. 

Mr. Jefferson was then President. He was beloved in France. 


JAMES MONROE. 


177 


The memory of Jaiaes Monroe was cherished there with universal 
respect and afiection. He was accordingly sent to co-operate with 
Chancellor Livingston, to endeavor to obtain by treaty, if possible, 
this vast possession. Their united efforts were successful. For 
the comparatively small sum of fifteen millions of dollars, though a 
very large one for us in those days, the entire territory of Orleans, 
and district of Louisiana,were added to the United States. It 
has been truly said that this was probably the largesC transfer of 
real e&tate which was ever made since Adam was presented with 
the fee iiiople of Paradise. The country thus obtained was in ex- ^ 
tent equal to the whole previous territory of the Union. It is 
univefsally admlMod that Mr. Monroe’s influence was very promi¬ 
nent ill this measure, and he ever regarded it .as the most im¬ 
portant of bis public services. We have now such a territory in 
magnitude, an<! adaptation to human wants, as no other nation 
on this^lobe ever postossed. 

From Fii.nce, Mr. IvlShroe went ^ England to obtain from that 
government some recoguiition of our rights as neutrals, and to re¬ 
monstrate again st thc.^e odious imprc.sments of our seamen which 
were fast rousing the indignation of the country to the highest 
;;)itch. But Englond was unrelentiiig. He then went to Spain, by 
vyay of Paris, where he saw Napoleon crowned. In Spain, he 
endeavored, though uiiavailingly, to adjust a controversy which 
hac arisen respecting the eastern boundary of the territory, which 
that government had ceded to France, and France to us. Napo¬ 
leon, in his cession, had copied the same words which Spain had 
used ki conveying the territory to France. 

Our relations with England were daily becoming more menacing. 

We would not willingly revive old griefs to perpetuate animosi¬ 
ties : we w'ould gladly have past wrongs forgotten, that kindly 
sympathies may pervade the whole human brotherhood. But 
it is the duty of the biographer and the historian to hold up 
the errors of the past as a warning for the future. There is 
not a nation on this globe, savage or civilized, which regards 
with cordial friendship the British Government. For the last 
half-century, England has been the leading power among the na¬ 
tions. Her demeanor has been arrogant, haughty, and overbear¬ 
ing. The powerful have been repelled by her proud assumptions, 
and the weak have been trampled upon in undisguised contempt. 

28 





178 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


England is no longer the leading power in the world, and there arc 
none who mourn to see her shorn of her strength. 

Let America take warning. It is as important that a nation 
should have the good will of all surrounding powers as that an 
individual should be loved by his neighbors. Let us be courteous, 
obliging, and unselfish in our intercourse with the strong, and 
sympathetic, gentle, and helping to the wreak. Let us try to 
prove the world’s great benefactor, the friend and comforter of 
our brother man everywhere struggling beneath the heavy bur¬ 
den of life. 

England, despising our feeble navy, forbade our trading with 
France; and seized and confiscated mercilessly our merchant-ships 
bound to any port in France or Spain, wherever her cruisers could 
arrest them. Mr. Monroe again returned to England, almost in 
the character of a suppliant; for our Government w'-as extremely 
averse to adopt any measures which could lead to war. The adminis¬ 
tration was even taunted with the declaration, that it “could not 
be kicked into a war.” No redress could be obtained. Mr. Mon¬ 
roe returned to this country, bearing w^ith him a treaty which wa.s 
so very unsatisfactory, that the President was not willing to sub¬ 
mit it to the Senate. Plundered merchants and ruined ship¬ 
owners poured in upon Congress petitions and remonstrancer, 
and there was a cry throughout the land that that governmeit 
was recreant to its trust which did not protect its citizens from 
outrage. 

At this time, Mr. Monroe, at the age of forty-eight, returned to 
his quiet home in Virginia, and with his wife and children, and 
an ample competence from his paternal estate, enjoyed a few 
years of domestic repose. 

In the year 1809, Mr. Jefferson's second term of office ^ixpired. 
Many of the Republican party were anxious to nominab James 
Monroe as his successor. The majority were in favo?" of Mr. 
Madison. Mr. Jefferson also favored Mr. Madison, as being the 
more moderate man, and the more likely to carry the votes of the 
whole party. Mr. Moyroe withdrew his name, and wa^ soon after, 
chosen a second time Governor of Virginia. He soon resigned 
that office to accept the position of Secretary of State, offered 
him by President Madison. The correspondence which be then 
carried on with the British Government demonstrated that there 
w^as no hope of any peaceful adjustment of our dificulties with 


JAMES MONROE. 


179 


the cabinet of St. James. War was consequently declared in 
June, 1812. Immediately after the sack of Washington, the Sec¬ 
retary of War resigned; and Mr. Monroe, at the earnest request 
of Mr. Madison, assumed the additional duties of the War De¬ 
partment, without resigning his oflSce of Secretary of State. 
It has been confidently stated, that, had Col. Monroe’s energy 
been in the War Department a few months earlier, the disaster at 
Washington would not have occurred. 

The duties now devolving upon Mr. Monroe were extremely 
arduous. Ten thousand men, picked from the veteran armies of 
England, were sent, with a powerful fleet, to New Orleans,-to ac¬ 
quire possession of the mouths of the Mississippi. Our finances 
were in the most deplorable condition. The treasury was exhausted, 
and our credit gone ; and yet it was necessary to make, the most 
vigorous preparations to meet the foe. In this crisis, James Mon¬ 
roe, the Secretary of War, with virtue unsurpassed in Greek or 
Roman story, stepped forward, and pledged his own individual 
credit as subsidiary to that of the nation, and thus succeeded in 
placing the city of New Orleans in such a posture of defence, 
that it was enabled successfully to repel the invader. 

Mr. Monroe was truly the armor-bearer of President Madison, 
and the most efficient business-man in his cabinet. Ilis energy, 
in his double capacity of Secretary both of State and War, pervaded 
all the departments of the country. With the most singular 
unselfishness, regardless both of his private interests and his polit¬ 
ical popularity, he advocated every measure which in his judgment 
would aid in securing the triumph of his country. He proposed 
to increase the army to a hundred thousand men, — a measure 
which he deemed absolutely necessary to save us from igno¬ 
minious defeat, but which, at the same time, he knew would 
render his name so unpopular, as to preclude the possibility of 
his being a successful candidate for the presidency. He conversed 
freely with his friends upon the subject, and calmly decided to 
renounce all thoughts of the presidential chair, while he urged 
that conscription which would enter every dwelling in search 
of a soldier. 

The happy result of the conference at Ghent in securipg peace 
rendered the increase of the army unnecessary ; but it is not too 
much to say, that Ja«nes Monroe placed in the hands of Andrew 
Jackson the weapon with which he beat off the foe at New 


180 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


Orleans. Upon the return of peace, Mr. Monroe resigned the 
Department of War, devoting himself exclusively to the duties 
of the Secretary of State. These he continued to discharge until 
the close of President Madison’s administration, with zeal which 
never abated, and with an ardor of self-devotion which made 
him'almost forgetful of the claims of fortune, health, or life. 

Mr. Madison’s second term of office expired in March, 1817 ; 
and Mr. Monroe, thoroughly acquainted with all the affairs of the 
nation, and perfectly versed in all the duties before him, suc¬ 
ceeded to the presidency. He was the candidate of the Repub¬ 
lican partj^, now taking the name of Democratic Republican; and 
was chosen by a large majority. There seemed to be for a time 
a lull in party strife. Mr. Monroe was a man of ability, at 
home in all statesmanlike duties, mare familiar than perhaps any 
other person with our internal and foreign relations : he was a 
man of unblemished character,’ of honesty of purpose, and purity 
of patriotism which no man could question. A better choice 
could not have been made.. His inaugural was conciliatory, and 
pleased all. The Constitution which he had opposed, wishing 
merely to introduce some amendments before it was adopted, he 
now admitted to be nearly perfect. 

It has been said, happy is that nation which has no history; for 
history is but a record of revolutions and battles. There is but 
little to be recorded during the eight years in which President 
Monroe was at the head of the administration of our Government. 
They were years of prosperity and peace. In forming his cabinet, 
Mr. Monroe placed the Department of State in the hands of John 
Quincy Adams. Florida was purchased of Spain for five millions 
of dollars, by the exercise of that power which Mr. Monroe,, in his 
inexperienced days, had been so reluctant to confer upon the 
General Government. 

In June of 1817, President Monroe took a very extensive jour¬ 
ney through the States, visiting all the fortifications. He was 
everywhere received with enthusiasm. He was conveyed up the 
Delaware from Wilmington to the navy-yard in Philadelphia in a 
barge of the “ Franklin ” (seventy-four). The barge was lined and 
trimmed with crimson velvet, and rowed by sixteen oarsmen, 
dressed in scarlet vests, white sleeves and trousers. The President 
wore a dark-blue coat, buff vest, doe-skin buff-colored breeches, 
and top-boots, with a military cocked-hat of the fashion of the 


JAMES MONROE. 


181 


Revolution, and a black-ribbon cockade. His route led him throucr], 
New York, Now Haven, Hartford, and Springfield, to Boston. 



THE BAKGE. 


His reception in Boston was very imposing. A cavalcade of 
citizens met him on the Neck, and escorted him through the prim- 
cipal streets of the city to rooms sumptuously prepared for his 
reception in the Exchange Coffee House. Salutes were fired 
from Dorchester Heights, the Common, and the forts in the har¬ 
bor. State Street was brilliantly decorated; and the crowd which 
was gathered in the commercial emporium of New England was 
greater than had ever been seen there since the visit of Wash¬ 
ington. 

From Boston, he passed through New Hampshire and Vermont, 
to Plattsburg in New York, and thence continued his journey to 
Ogdensburg, SacketCs Harbor, and Detroit, returning to Washing¬ 
ton the latter part of September. His long and fatiguing tour, 
which then occupied four months, could now be easily performed 
in three weeks. 

When President Monroe was a young man of eighteen, he was 
wounded at the battle of Trenton. Passing through Hanover, 









182 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


N.H., in this tour, he called upon the widow of President Whee- 
lock of Dartmouth College, who, when a young lady at her 
father’s house, had with her own hands prepared the bandages 
with which the surgeon had dressed the wound. In pensive 
memory of the past, the care-worn statesman and the bereaved 
widow exchanged their sympathetic greetings, and then sepa¬ 
rated, not again to meet on this earth. 

All along his route. President Monroe met his old companions in 
arms, many of whom were, impoverished. One friend he found 
whom he had known as a young, scholarly, accomplished officer, 
and who had contributed lavishly of his fortune to feed and clothe 
the soldiers of his regiment, but whose threadbare garments too 
plainly bespoke the poverty which had come with his gray hairs. 
The President was deepl}^ moved, and, on his retiring, spoke with 
great warmth of the neglect of our country in making provision 
for the wants of those who had shed their blood for our independ¬ 
ence. On his return to Washington, he exerted himself in secur¬ 
ing a pension-law to cheer the declining years of these fast¬ 
disappearing veterans. 

In 1821, President Monroe was re-elected, with scarcely any 
opposition. Out of 232 electoral votes, Mr. Monroe had 231. The 
slavery question, which subsequently assumed such formidable 
dimensions, threatening to whelm the whole Union in ruins, now 
began to make its appearance. The State of Missouri, which had 
been carved out of that immense territory which we had pur¬ 
chased of France, applied for admission to the Union with a 
slavery constitution., There were not a few who foresaw the evils 
impending. In the long and warm debate which ensued, Mr. 
Lourie of Maryland said, — 

Sir, if the alternative be, as gentlemen broadly intimate, a dis¬ 
solution of the Union, or the extension of slavery over this whole 
western country, I, for one, will choose the former. I do not say 
this lightly. I am aware that the idea is a dreadful one. The 
choice is a dreadful one. Either side of the alternative fills my 
mind with horror. I have not, however, yet despaired of the Re¬ 
public.” 

After the debate of a week, it was decided that Missouri could 
not be admitted into the Union with slavery. The question was 
at length settled by a compromise, proposed by Henry Clay. 
Missouri was admitted with slavery on the 10th of May, 1821; and 


JAMES MONROE. 


183 


slavery was prohibited over all the territory ceded by France, 
north of thirty-six degrees, thirty minutes, north latitude. 

The famous “ Monroe Doctrine,’’ of which so much has recently 
been said, originated in this way: In the year 1823, it was ru¬ 
mored that the Holy Alliance was about to interfere, to prevent 
the establishment of republican liberty in the European colonies 
in South America. President Monroe wrote to his- old friend 
Thomas Jefferson, then the sage of Monticello, for advice in the 
emergency. In the reply, under date of Oct. 24, Mr. Jefferson 
writes upon the supposition that our attempt to resist this Euro¬ 
pean movement might lead to war, — 

Its object is to introduce and establish the American system 
of keeping out of our land all foreign powers; of never permitting 
those of Europe to intermeddle with the affairs of our nation. It 
is to maintain our own principle, not to depart from it.” 

A few weeks after this, on the 2d of December, 1823, Presi¬ 
dent Monroe sent a message to Congress, declaring it to be the 
policy of this Government not to entangle ourselves with the 
broils of Europe, and not to allow Europe to interfere with affairs 
of nations on the American continents; and the doctrine was 
announced, that any attempt on the part of the European powers 
“ to extend their system to any portion of this hemisphere would 
be regarded by the United States as dangerous to our peace and 
safety.” 

On the 4th of March, 1825, Mr. Monroe, surrendering the 
presidential chair to his Secretary of State, John Quincy Adams, 
retired, with the universal respect of the nation, to his private 
residence at Oak Hill, in Loudon County, Ya. His time had been 
so entirely consecrated to the country, that he had neglected his 
own pecuniary interests, and was deeply involved in debt. In de¬ 
votion to his duties, he had engaged “ in labors outlasting the daily 
circuit of the sun, and outwatching the vigils of the night.” The 
welfare of the country — the whole country — had ever been the 
one prominent thought in his mind. If we allow the panorama of 
his life to pass rapidly before us, we see him, just emerging from 
boyhood, weltering in blood on the field of Trenton; then, still a 
youth, he is seated among the sages of the land, forming the laws; 
then he moves with power which commands attention and respect 
in the courts of Britain, France, and Spain, defending the rights 
of his country; then his native State raises him to the highest 


184 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


honor in her gift, and twice places in his hand the sceptre of 
gubernatorial power; again we behold him successfully forging the 
thunderbolts of war with which to repel invasion, while at the 
same time he conducts our diplomatic correspondence, and frames 
our foreign policy, with jealous and often hostile nations; and 
again we see him, by the almost unanimous voice of his country¬ 
men, placed in the highest post of honor the nation could offer,— 
the Presidency of the United States ; and then, with dignity, he 
retires to a humble home, a poor man in worldly wealth, but 
rich in all those excellences which can ennoble humanity. 

For many years, Mrs. Monroe was in such feeble health, that she 
larely appeared in public. In 1830, Mr. Monroe took up his resi¬ 
dence with his son-in-law in New York, where he die.d on the 
4th of July, 1831, at the age of seventy-three years. The citi¬ 
zens of New York conducted his obsequies with pageants more 
imposing than had ever been witnessed there before. Our country 
will ever cherish his memory with pride, gratefully enrolling his 
name in the list of its benefactors, pronouncing him the worthy 
successor of the illustrious men who had preceded him in the 
presidential chair. 


CHAPTER VI. 


JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 


Birth and Childhood. — Education in Europe. — Private Secretary. — Enters Harvard College. 

— Studies Law. — Minister to the Netherlands. — Commendation of Washington. — Other 
Missions. — Return to America. — Elected to the Massachusetts Senate. — To the Na« 
tional House of Representatives.— Alienation of the Federalists.— Professor of Rhetoric. 

— Mission to Russia.— Anecdote of Alexander. — Treaty of Ghent. — Secretary of 
State. — President. — Unscrupulous Opposition. — Retirement. — Returned to the House 
of Representatives. — Signal Services. — Public Appreciation. — Death. 

John Quincy Adams, the sixth President of the United States, 
was born in the rural home of his honored father, John Adams, 



EESIDENCE OF JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 


•:n Quincy, Mass., on the 11th of July, 1767. His mother, 
a woman of exalted worth, watched over his childhood during the 

24 185 




















186 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


almost constant absence of his father. At the village school he 
commenced his education, giving at an early period indications 
of superior mental endowments. When but eight years of age, he 
stood with his mother upon an eminence, listening to the booming 
of the great battle on Bunker’s Hill, and gazing upon the smoke 
and flame billowing up from the conflagration of Charlestown. 
Often, during the siege of Boston, he watched the shells thrown 
day and night by the combatants. 

When but eleven years old, he took a tearful adieu of his 
mother, and was rowed out in a small boat to a ship anchored in 
the bay, to sail with his father for Europe, through a fleet of hos¬ 
tile British cruisers. The bright, animated boy spent a year and 
a half in Paris, where his father was associated wflth Franklin and 
Lee as minister plenipotentiary. His intelligence attracted the 
notice of these distinguished men, and he received from them 
flattering marks of attention. 

Mr. John Adams had scarcely returned to this country in 1779 
ere he was again sent abroad, empowered to negotiate a treaty 
of peace with England, whenever England should be disposed to - 
end the war. Again John Quincy accompanied his father. On 
this voyage he commenced a diary, noting down the remarkable 
events of each day; which practice he continued, with but few 
interruptions, until his death. With his active mind ever alert, he 
journeyed with his father from Ferrol in Spain, where the frigate 
landed, to Paris. Here he applied himself with great diligence, 
for six months, to study; then accompanied bis father to Holland, 
where he entered, first a school in Amsterdam, and then the Uni¬ 
versity of Leyden. About a year from this time, in 1781, when 
the manly boy was but fourteen years of age, he was selected by 
Mr. Dana, our minister to the Russian court, as his private secre¬ 
tary. 

In this school of incessant labor and of ennobling culture he 
spent fourteen months, and then returned to Holland through 
Sweden, Denmark, Hamburg, and Bremen. This long journey he 
took alone, in the winter, when in his sixteenth year. Again he 
resumed his studies, under a private tutor, at the Hague. Thence, 
in the spring of 1782, he accompanied his father to Paris, travel¬ 
ling leisurely, and forming acquaintance with the most distin¬ 
guished men on the Continent; examining architectural remains, 
galleries of paintings, and all renowned works of art. At Paris, 


JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 


187 


l»o again became the associate of the most illustrious men of all 
lauds in the contemplation of the loftiest temporal themes which 
can engross the human mind. After a short visit to England, he 
returned to Paris, and consecrated all his energies to study until 
May, 1785, when he returned to America, leaving his father our 
ambassador at the court of St. James. To a brilliant young man 
of eighteen, who had seen much of the world, and who was famil¬ 
iar with the etiquette of courts^ a residence with his father in 
London, under such circumstances, must have been extremely 
attractive; but, with judgment very rare in one of his age, he 
preferred to return to America to complete his education in an 
American college. He wished then to study law, that, with an 
honorable profession, he might be able to obtain an independent 
support. 

The advancement which he had already made in education was 
such, that, in 1786, he entered the junior class in Harvard Univer¬ 
sity. His character, attainments, and devotion to study, secured 
alike the respect of his classmates and the faculty, and he gradu- 
•ated with the second honor of his class. The oration he delivered 
on this occasion, upon the “ Importance of Public Faith to the Well¬ 
being of a Community,’’ was published; an event very rare in this 
or in any other land. 

Upon leaving college, at the age of twenty, he studied law for 
three years with the Hon. Theophilus Parsons in Newburyport. 
In 1790, he opened a law-office in Boston. The profession was 
crowded with able men, and the fees were small. The first year, he 
had no clients; but not a moment was lost, as his eager mind trav¬ 
ersed the fields of all knowledge. The second year passed away ; 
still no clients ; and still he was dependent upon his parents for sup¬ 
port. Anxiously he entered upon the third year. He had learned 
to labor and to wait. The reward now came, — a reward richly 
merited by the purity of his character, the loftiness of his princi¬ 
ples, and his intense application to every study which would aid 
him to act well his part in life. Clients began to enter his office ; 
and, before the close of the year, he was so crowded with business, 
that all solicitude respecting a support was at an end. 

When Great Britain commenced war against France, in 1793, to 
arrest the progress of the French Revolution, Mr. Adams wrote 
some articles, urging entire neutrality on the part of the United 
States. The view was not a popular one. Many felt, that, as 


188 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


France had helped us, we were bound to help France. But Presi 
dent Washington coincided with Mr. Adams, and issued his proc¬ 
lamation of neutrality. His writings at this time in the Boston 
journals attracted national attention, and gave him so high a repu¬ 
tation for talent, and familiarity with our diplomatic relations, that 
in June, 1794, he, being then but twenty-seven years of age, was 
appointed by Washington resident minister at the Netherlands. 

Sailing from Boston in July, he reached London in October, 
where he was immediately admitted to the deliberations of Messrs. 
Jay and Pinckney, assisting them in negotiating a commercial 
treaty with Great Britain. After thus spending a fortnight in 
London, he proceeded to the Hague, where he arrived just after 
Holland was taken possession of by the French under Pichegru. 
The French gathered around Mr.' Adams, as the representative of 
a nalion which had just successfully passed through that struggle 
for liberty in which they were then engaged. 

In the agitated state of Europe, swept by the great armies 
struggling for and against equal rights for all men,’’ there was 
but little that a peaceful ambassador could then accomplish ; but/ 
being one of the most methodical and laborious of men, he devoted 
himself to official duties, the claims of society, reading the ancient 
classics, and familiarizing himself with the languages of modern 
Europe. Every hour had its assigned duty. Every night he 
reviewed what be had done for the day ; and, at the close of every 
month and every year, he subjected his conduct to rigorous retro¬ 
spection. 

In July, 1797, he left the Hague to go to Portugal as minister 
plenipotentiary. Washington at this time wrote to his father, 
John Adams,— 

Without intending to compliment the father or the mother, or 
to censure any others, I give it as my decided opinion, that Mr. 
Adams is the most valuable character which we have abroad; and 
there remains no doubt in my mind that he will prove himself the 
ablest of all our diplomatic corps.” 

On his way to Portugal, upon his arrival in London, he met with 
despatches directing him to the court of Berlin, but requesting 
him to remain in London until he should receive his instructions. 
While waiting, he was married to an American lady to whom he 
had been previously engaged,— Miss Louisa Catharine Johnson, 
daughter of Mr. Joshua Johnson, American consul in London; a 


JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 


18i) 

lady endowed with that beauty and those accomplishments which 
eminently fitted her to move in the elevated sphere for which 
she was destined. 

Mr. Adams was very reluctant to accept the mission to Berlin, 
as it was an appointment made by his father, who had succeeded 
Washington in the presidential chair. But his father wrote to 
him, informing him of the earnest wish of Washington that the 
country might not lose the benefit of his fa.miliarity with the Euro¬ 
pean courts. To his mother, John Quincy wrote, in reply,— 

I know with what delight your truly maternal heart has 
received every testimonial of Washington's favorable voice. It is 
among the most precious gratifications of my life to reflect upon 
the pleasure which my conduct has given to my parents. How 
much, my dear mother, is required of me to support and justify 
such a judgment as that which you have copied into youf letter ! ” 

He reached Berlin with his wife in November, 1797 ; where he 
remained until July, 1799, when, having fulfilled all the purposes 
of his mission, he solicited his recall. In the mean time, he travelled 
extensively through the German States, writing a series of letters 
which were subsequently published. As soon as permission came 
for his return, he embarked, and reached the United States in Sep¬ 
tember. 1801. 

Soon after his return, in 1802, he was chosen to the Senate of 
Massachusetts from Boston, and then was elected senator of the 
United States for six years from the 4th of March, 1804. Alike 
the friend of Washington and Jefferson, with cordial commenda¬ 
tions from them both, he was in an admirable position to take an 
independent stand, unbiassed by partisan prejudices. His reputa¬ 
tion, his ability, and his experience, placed him immediately among 
the most prominent and influential members of that body. In 
every measure which his judgment approved, he cordially sup¬ 
ported Mr. Jefferson’s administration. Especially did he sustain 
the Government in its measures of resistance to the encroachments 
of England, destroying our commerce and insulting our flag. 
There was no man in America more familiar with the arrogance 
of the British court upon these points, and no one more resolved 
to present a firm resistance. 

This course, so truly patriotic, and which scarcely a voice will 
now be found to condemn, alienated from him the Federal party 
dominant in Boston, and subjected him to censure. In 1805, ho 


190 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


was chosen professor of rhetoric in Harvard College ; and this in 
defatigable man, in addition to his senatorial duties, entered vigor- 
ous^ upon a course of preparatory studies, reviewing his classics, 
and searching the literature of Europe for materials for his lec¬ 
tures. The lectures he thus prepared were subsequently published, 
and constitute enduring memorials of his genius and his industry. 

On the 22d of June, 1807, an event occurred to which we have 
referred, and to which it is necessary to allude more particu¬ 
larly. 

On the 7th of June, 1807,the United-States frigate “ Chesapeake” 
proceeded to sea from Norfolk. The British man-of-war Leopard,” 
knowing that she was to sail, had preceded her by a few hours; 
keeping advantage of the weather-gauge. As soon as ^‘The Chesa^ 
peake ” was fairly out to sea, The Leopard” came down upon her, 
hailed her, and said she had despatches to send on board. Commo¬ 
dore Barron of “The Chesapeake” answered the hail, and said that 
he would receive a boat. A British lieutenant came on board, and 
presented an order from the British admiral, which stated that he 
had reason to believe that there were four British subjects among 
the seamen of The Chesapeake,” and ordered Commodore Barron 
to muster the crew that he might select them. 

The commodore refused. As soon as informed of this by the 
return of the boat’s crew, The Leopard ” commenced firing upon 
^'The Chesapeake,”and for fifteen minutes continued pouring in her 
broadsides,though The Chesapeake” was in such a condition, thus 
taken by surprise, as not to be able to answer by a single gun. 
Three men were killed, and Commodore Barron and nine others 
wounded. The Chesapeake’s ” flag was struck. The English cap¬ 
tain refused to receive her as a prize, but took four men from the 
crew, whom he claimed as Englishmen. One of these soon after 
died; one he hung as a deserter; the two others were eventually 
returned to “ The Chesapeake ” as Americans. 

This outrage roused general indignation. A meeting was called 
at the State House in Boston. But few Federalists attended. 
Mr. Adams presented resolutions, which were unanimously adopted. 
His father, the Ex-President, acted with him in this movement. 
For this ‘they were both denounced as apostates from the Federal 
party. President Jefferson called a special meeting of Congress 
to act upon this affair. Mr. Adams earnestly supported the meas¬ 
ures of Mr. Jefferson’s cabinet, when it proposed, in response to 
this outrage, that — 


JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 


191 


“ No British armed vessel shall be permitted to enter the harbors 
and waters under the jurisdiction of the United States, except 
when forced in by distress, by the dangers of the sea, or when 
charged with public despatches, or coming as a public packet.” 

John Quincy Adams, in a letter to James Otis, dated March, 1808, 
writes, “ Examine the official returns from the Department of State. 
They give the names of between four and five thousand men 
impressed since the commencement of the present war, of which 
not one-ffth part were British subjects, I hazard little in saying 
that more than three-fourths were native Americans. If it be said 
that some of these men, though appearing on the face of the 
returns American citizens, were really British subjects, and had 
fraudulently procured their protections, I reply, that this number 
must be far exceeded by the cases of citizens impressed which 
never reach the Department of State. The American consul in. 
London estimates the number of impressments during the war 
at three times the amount of the names returned.” Thus England 
dragged from our ships fifteen thousand meUj whom she claimed 
as her subjects, and forced into her men-of-war to fight her battles. 
There was no trial b}^ a court to substantiate a claim. Neither 
Tripoli nor Algiers ever perpetrated a grosser outrage. 

Mr. Adams, averring that the course the Administration proposed 
was the only safe one for the countr}^ became upon this point 
separated from his Federal friends, and allied to the Administration; 
and his services were recognized with gratitude by Mr. Jefferson. 
The Legislature of Massachusetts gave such unequivocal indication 
of their displeasure with Mr. Adams, that he addressed to them a 
letter, stating that he deemed it his duty to support the Adminis¬ 
tration in those measures which to him seemed essential to the 
dignity and safety of the country; but, as the Legislature had dis¬ 
approved of his course, he resigned his seat, that they might have 
an opportunity to place in the Senate of the United States a mem¬ 
ber whose views would be more consonant with those which they 
entertained. 

James Lloyd was immediately chosen to fill the place thus 
vacated by one whose renown filled two hemispheres. Mr. Adams 
returned to his professorship, not only neglected and avoided by 
his old friends, but assailed by them with the bitterest invectives. 
From this weight of obloquy he had no relief but in the approval 
of his own conscience, and his anticipation of that verdict which 
posterity has already rendered. 


192 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


In 1809, Madison succeeded Jefferson in the presidential chair; 
and he immediately nominated John Quincy Adams minister to 
St. Petersburg. Washington had declared that Mr. Adams was 
the ablest of the diplomatic corps, and that he must not think of 
retiring from that service. Stung by the treatment he had received 
from the Federalists in Boston, Mr. Adams abandoned the Federal 
party, and allied himself earnestly with Mr. Madison in his admin¬ 
istration. 

Resigning his professorship, he embarked at Boston with Mrs. 
Adams and their youngest son in August, 1809, and, after a stormy 
passage, reached St. Petersburg on the 23d of October. Twice 
their ship, which was a merchantman, was stopped and searched 
by British cruisers ; and, but for Mr. Adams’s firmness and thorough 
acquaintance with the law of nations, the ship would not have 
been permitted to continue to its port of destination. 

He was received by the Emperor Alexander alone in his cabinet, 
and a warm attachment immediately sprang up between those 
illustrious men ; and thus was laid the foundations of that friend¬ 
ship which binds the two nations together to the present day. I 
have before spoken of the arrogance assumed by the British Gov¬ 
ernment in the days of its power,, which has alienated from that 
government the sympathies of all nations. I have spoken of this 
as a warning to America, now that we are stepping forward to be 
the leading.nation upon the globe. The following anecdote will 
illustrate this sentiment: — 

A short time ago, a small party of American military officers were 
travelling upon the Danube. They met a party of Russian officers. 
The Russians gave them very manifestly the cold shoulder, so 
repelling the slightest advances as to indicate emphatically that 
they desired no acquaintance whatever. After thus travelling 
together for half a day, one of the Russian ofiicers overheard a 
remark which led him to step forward, and inquire, Gentlemen, 
may I take the liberty to ask if you are Americans ? ” — We are,’’ 
was the response. Instantly they we^o surrounded with all cor¬ 
dial greetings. We beg your pardon,” said one ; “ we beg your 
pardon: but we thought you were English, and we all hate the 
English.” 

Mrs. Adams became a great favorite with the imperial family. The 
emperor, influenced by the kindliness with which he regarded our 
minister and his family, tendered to the British Government the 


JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 


193 


offer of his mediation in the war which soon after broke ont between 
Great Britain and America. Though England declined the media¬ 
tion, she felt constrained by the offer to propose to treat directly. 
Thus peace was effected. 

The Danish Government had sequestered much American prop¬ 
erty in the ports of Holstein. Upon an intimation from Mr. 
Adams, the emperor sent word to that government that it would 
be gratifying to him if the American property could be restored as 
soon as possible. The request was immediately granted. The 
foreign ministers at the Russian court were generally living in the 
greatest magnificence ; but Mr. Adams received so small a salary, 
that he was compelled to practise the most rigid economy. He 
was expected to attend the splendid entertainments of others, but 
could give none in return. One morning, as he was out walking, 
he met the emperor, who came cordially up to him, and, clasping 
his hand, said, — 

■ “ Why, Mr. Adams, it is a hundred years since I have seen you! 
After some common observations, he inquired, “ Do you intend 
to take a house in the country this summer? 

“ No,^^ Mr. Adams replied: “ I had that intention for some time, 
but have given it up.” 

And why ? ” inquired the emperor. Then, observing a little 
hesitation in Mr. Adams’s manner, he relieved him from his embar¬ 
rassment by saying in perfect good humor, and with a smile, 
“ Perhaps it is from considerations of finance.” 

“Those considerations are often very important,” Mr. Adams 
replied. “You are right,” rejoined the emperor: “it is always 
necessary to proportion one’s expenses to one’s receipts.” 

While in Russia, Mr. Adams was an intense student. He devoted 
his attention to the language and history of Russia; to the Chinese 
trade ; to the European system of weights, measures, and coins; to 
the climate, and astronomical observations; while he kept up a 
familiar acquaintance with the Greek and Latin classics. In all 
the universities of Europe, a more accomplished scholar could 
scarcely be found. All through life, the Bible constituted an 
important part of his studies. It was his rule every day to read 
five chapters. He also read with great attention the works of 
the most eminent theologians. With this eagerness in the pursuit 
of knowledge, it is not surprising that he should write jto a 
friend,— o 


25 


194 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


I feel nothing like the tediousness of time. I suffer nothing 
like ennui. Time is too short for me rather than too long. If the 
day was forty-eight hours, instead of twenty-four, I could employ 
them all, if I had but eyes and hands to read and write. 

In 1811, President Madison nominated Mr. Adams to a seat on 
the bench of the Supreme Court of the United States; but he 
declined the appointment. As England had consented, in response 
to the Russian offer of mediation, to treat for peace, Mr. Adams 
was appointed, with Mr. Gallatin and Mr. Bayard, to conduct the 
negotiations. The commissioners met at Ghent. Mr. Adams took 
the leading part. The Marquis of Wellesley, in commenting upon 
the treaty which was then entered into, said in the British House 
of Lords,— 

“ In my opinion, the ’American commissioners have shown the 
most astonishing superiority over the English during the whole of 
the correspondence. 

From Ghent, Mr. Adams went to Paris, where he chanced to be 
when the Emperor Napoleon returned from Elba and again took 
possession of the Tuileries. Mrs. Adams joined him here; and 
they proceeded together to London, he having been appointed 
minister to the British court. He arrived in London on the 25th 
of May, 1815. 

Taking up his residence in the country, about nine miles from Lon¬ 
don, he again resumed his vigorous habits of study, while attend¬ 
ing energetically to his diplomatic duties, and receiving the atten¬ 
tions which his official station and his renown caused to be lavished 
upon him. Both Mr. and Mrs. Adams were honored with a private 
audience with the queen, and were present at the marriage of the 
Princess Charlotte with Leopold. The most eminent men of all 
classes sought Mr. Adams’s acquaintance. He had an interview 
with Mr. Canning, “ in which the illustrious statesman,” says Mr. 
Adams, seemed desirous to make up by an excess of civility for 
the feelings he had so constantly manifested against us.” 

On the 4th of March, 1817, Mr. Monroe took the presidential 
chair, and immediately appointed Mr. *Adams Secretary of State. 
Taking leave of his numerous friends in public and private life 
in Europe, he sailed in June, 1819, for the United States. On the 
18th of August, he again crossed the threshold of his home in 
Quincy, and, after an absence of eight years, received the embraces 
of his venerable father and mother, whom he found in perfect 


JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 


195 


health. After a short visit home, he repaired to Washington, and 
entered npon his new duties, as thoroughly prepared for them, in 
ability, education, and experience, as one could be. During the 
eight years of Mr. Monroe’s administration, Mr. Adams continued 
Secretary of State. Few will now contradict the assertion, that 
the duties of that office were never more ably discharged. Prob¬ 
ably the most important measure which Mr. Adams conducted 
was the purchase of Florida from Spain for five million dollars. 

Some time before the close of Mr. Monroe’s second term of 
office, new candidates began to be presented for the presidency. 
The friends of Mr. Adams brought forward his name, urging in 
his favor the unblemished purity of his character, his abilities and 
acquirements, the distinguished services he had rendered his 
country, and his extraordinary familiarity with all our foreign and 
domestic relations. 

It was an exciting campaign. Party spirit was never more 
bitter. Two hundred and sixty electoral votes^ were cast. 
Andrew Jackson received ninety-nine; John Quincy Adams, eighty- 
four ; William H. Crawford, forty-one; Henry Clay, thirty-seven. 
As there was no choice by the people, the question went to the 
House of Representatives. Mr. Clay gave the vote of Kentucky 
to Mr. Adams, and he was elected. 

The friends of all the disappointed candidates now combined in a 
venomous and persistent assault upon Mr. Adams. There is 
nothing more disgraceful in the‘past history of our country than 
the abuse which was poured, in one uninterrupted stream, upon 
this high-minded, upright, patriotic man. There never was an 
administration more pure in principles, more conscientious!} 
devoted to the best interests of the country, than that of John 
Quincy Adams ; and. never, perhaps, was there an administration 
more unscrupulously and outrageously assailed. It throws a shade 
over one’s hopes of humanity thus to see patriotism of the most 
exalted character hunted down as though it were the vilest 
treason. Mr. Adams, with a mind enlarged by familiarity with all the 
governments of Europe, and with affections glowing with love for 
his own country, took his seat in the presidential chair, resolvetl 
not to know any partisanship, but only to consult for the interests 
of the whole republic. He refused to dismiss any man from office 
for his political views. Under his government, no man suffered 
for his political opinions. If he were a faithful officer, that was 


196 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


enough. Bitter must have been Mr. Adamses disappointment to 
find that the nation could not appreciate such nobility of character 
and conduct. The four years that he occupied the presidential chair 
must have been years of anguish, imbittered by the reflection, that 
could he have stooped to the partisanship of dismissing from office 
every one who did not vote for him, and of filling every post at 
his disposal with those who would pled-ge themselves intensely to 
his support, he might perhaps have fought off his enemies, and 
have secured a re-election. Virtue does not always, in this world, 
triumph. 

Mr. Adams, in his public manners, was cold and repulsive; though 
it is said that with his personal friends he was at times very genial. 
In his public receptions and official intercourse, he often appeared 
“ with a formal coldness, that froze like the approach to an iceberg.’^ 
This chilling address very seriously detracted from his popularity. 
When the result of the election which placed Mr. Adams in the 
presidential chair was known, the rival candidates, and especially 
their friends, experienced disappointment amounting to anguish. 
Mr. Cobb, one of the warmest partisans of Mr. Crawford, was 
afraid to call upon him with the announcement of his defeat. He 
shrank from witnessing the shock of his chiefs disappointment. 
Gen. Jackson was indignant, and he nursed his wrath in secret, 
while, externally, he appeared unconcerned and cheerful. A few 
days after the event, Mr. Cobb wrote to his friends, — 

The presidential election is over, and you will have heard the 
result. The clouds were black, and portentous of storms of no 
ordinary character. They broke in one horrid burst, and straight 
dispelled. Every thing here is silent. The victors have no cause 
to rejoice. There was not a single window lighted on the occa¬ 
sion. A few free negroes shouted, ‘ Huzza for Mr. Adams ! ’ but 
they were not joined even by the cringing populace of this place. 
The disappointed submit in sullen silence. The friends of Jack- 
son grumbled, at first, like the rumbling of distant thunder; but 
the old man himself submitted without a change of countenance. 
Mr. Crawford’s friends changed not their looks. They command 
universal respect. Crawford will return home, and we must do the 
best we can with him. Should he and our friends wish that he should 
again go into the Senate, the way shall be open for him. I am sick 
and tired of every thing here, and wish for nothing so much as 
private life. My ambition is dead.” 


JOHN (QUINCY ADAMS. 


197 


The evening after the election, Mr. Monroe held a presidential 
levee. All Washington crowded to the White House, eager to 
pay homage to the rising sun. Mr. S. G. Goodrich happened to 
be present, and with his graphic pen has described the scene : — 

I shall pass over,” he writes, other individuals present, only 
noting an incident which respects the two persons in the assem¬ 
bly, who, most of all others, engrossed the thoughts* of the visitors, 
— Mr. Adams the elect, Gen. Jackson the defeated. It chanced 
in the course of the evening, that these two persons, involved in 
the throng, approached each other from opposite directions, yet 
without knowing it. Suddenly, as they were almost together, the 
persons around, seeing what was to happen, by a sort of instinct 
stepped aside, and left them face to face. • Mr. Adams was by him¬ 
self : Gen. Jackson had a large, handsome lady on his arm. They 
looked at each other for a moment; and then Gen. Jackson moved 
forward, and, reaching out his long arm, said, ^ How do you do, 
Mr. Adams ? I give you my left hand ; for the right, a-s you see, is 
devoted to the fair. I hope you are very well, sir.’ All this was gal¬ 
lantly and heartily said and done. Mr. Adams took the general’s 
hand, and said, with chilling coldness, ^ Very well, sir: I hope Gen. 
Jackson is well.’ 

^^It was curious to see the Western planter, the Indian fighter, 
the stern soldier, who had written his country’s glory in the blood 
of the enemy at New Orleans, genial and gracious in the midst of • 
a court; while the old courtier and diplomat was stiff, rigid, cold as 
a statue. It was all the more remarkable from the fact, that, four 
hours before, the former had been defeated, and the latter was the 
victor, in a struggle for one of the highest objects of human ambi¬ 
tion. The personal character of these two individuals was, in fact, 
well expressed in that chance-meeting, — the gallantry, the frank¬ 
ness, the .heartiness, of the one, which captivated all; the coldness, 
the distance, the self-concentration, of the other, which repelled 
all.” 

No one can read the impartial record of John Quincy Adams’s 
administration without admitting that a more noble example of 
uncompromising integrity can scarcely be found. It was stated 
publicly that Mr. Adams’s administration was to be put down, 
“ though it be as pure as the angels which stand at the right hand 
of the throne of God.” Not a few of the active participants in 
those scenes lived to regret the course they pursued. Some 


198 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


years after, Mr. Warren R. Davis of South Carolina, turning to 
Mr. Adams, then a member of the House of Representatives, 
said, — 

“Well do I remember the enthusiastic zeal with which we 
reproached the administration of that gentleman, and the ardor and 
vehemence with which we labored to bring in another. For the 
share I had in those transactions, — and it was not a small one, 
— I hope God will forgive me; for I never shall forgive myself:^ 

Mr. Adams was, to a very remarkable degree, abstemious and 
temperate in his habits; always rising early, and taking much 
exercise. When at his home in Quincy, he has been known to 
walk seven miles to Boston before breakfast. In Washington, it 
was said that he was th^ first man up in the city, lighting his own 
fire, and applying himself to work in his library often long before 
the dawn. He was an expert swimmer, and was exceedingly fond 
of bathing; and was in the habit in the summer, every morning, of 
plunging into the Potomac with all the sportiveness of a boy. He 
sometimes made the journey from Quincy to Washingtcn on 
horseback, accompanied by a single attendant. 

On the 4th of March, 1829, Mr. Adams retired from the presi¬ 
dency, and was succeeded by Andrew Jackson. John C. Calhoun 
was elected Vice-President. The slavery question now began to 
assume portentous magnitude. Mr. Adams returned to Quincy 
and to his studies, which he pursued with unabated zeal. But he 
was not long permitted to remain in retirement. In November, 
1880, he was elected representative to Congress. He thus recog¬ 
nized the Roman principle, that it is honorable for the general of 
yesterday to act as corporal to-day, if by so doing he can render 
service to his country. Deep as are the obligations of our repub¬ 
lic to John Quincy Adams for his services as ambassador, as Secre¬ 
tary of State, and as President, in his capacity as legislator in the 
House of Representatives he conferred benefits upon our land 
which eclipsed all the rest, and which can never be over-esti¬ 
mated. 

For seventeen years, until his death, he occupied the post of 
representative, towering above all his peers, ever ready to do 
brave battle for freedom, and winning the title of “ the old man 
eloquent.^^ Upon taking his seat in the house, he announced that 
he should hold himself bound to no party. Probably there was 
never a member of the house more devoted to his duties. He was 


JOHN qUINCY ADAMS. 


199 


usually the first in his place in the morning, and the last to leave 
his seat in the evening. Not a measure could be brought forward, 
and escape his scrutiny. The battle which Mr. Adams fought, 
almost singly, against the proslavery party in the Government, 
was sublime in its moral daring and heroism. For persisting in 
presenting petitions for the abolition of slavery, he was threatened 
with indictment by the grand jury, with expulsion from the house, 
with assassination; but no threats could intimidate him, and his 
final triumph was complete. 

On one occasion, Mr. Adams presented a petition, signed by sev¬ 
eral women, against the annexation of Texas for the purpose of 
cutting it up into slave States. Mr. Howard of Maryland said 
that these women discredited not only themselves, but their sec¬ 
tion of the country, by turning from their domestic duties to the 
conflicts of political life. 

Are women,” exclaimed Mr. Adams, to have no opinions or 
actions on subjects relating to the general welfare? Where did the 
gentleman get this principle ? Did he find it in sacred history, — in 
the language of Miriam the prophetess, in one of the noblest and 
most sublime songs of triumph that ever met the human eye or 
ear? Did the gentleman never hear of Deborah, to whom the chil¬ 
dren of Israel came up for judgment? Has he forgotten the deed 
of Jael, who slew the dreaded enemy of her country? Has he 
forgotten Esther, who by her petition saved her people and her 
country ? 

To go from sacred history to profane, does the gentleman there 
find it ^ discreditable ’ for women to take an interest in political 
affairs ?, Has he forgotten the Spartan mother, who said to her son, 
when going out to battle, ^ My son, come back to me with thy 
shield, or upon thy shield ’ ? Does he not remember Cloelia and her 
hundred companions, who swam across the river, under a shower 
of darts escaping from Porsena ? Has he forgotten Cornelia, the 
mother of the Gracchi ? Does he not remember Portia, the wife of 
Brutus and the daughter of Cato ? 

“ To come to later periods, what says the history of our Anglo- 
Saxon ancestors ? To say nothing of Boadicea, the British heroine 
in the time of the Caesars, what name is more illustrious than that 
of Elizabeth ? Or, if he will go to the Continent, will he not find the 
names of Maria Theresa of Hungary, of the two Catharines of 
Russia, and of Isabella of Castille, the patroness of Columbus. Did 
she bring ‘ discredit ^ on her sex by mingling in politics ? ” 


200 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


In this glowing strain, he silenced and overwhelmed his antago¬ 
nists. Congress, yielding to the proslavery spirit of the South, 
passed a resolve in January, 1837, “ that all petitions relating to 
slavery, without being printed or referred, shall be laid on the 
table, and no action shall be had thereon.^^ Some of the proslavery 
party forged a petition, as if from slaves, to see if Mr. Adams 
would dare to present it. 

On the 6th of February, 1837, Mr. Adams rose with this forged 
petition in his hand, and said, I hold a paper purporting to come 
from slaves. I wish to know if such a paper comes within the 
order of the house respecting petitions.^’ 

The strange sensitiveness of the house upon this subject may be 
inferred • from the fact, that a storm of indignation was instantly 
roused. Waddy Thompson of South Carolina, Charles E. Haynes 
of Georgia, Dixon H. Lewis of Alabama, sprang to the floor, pre¬ 
senting resolutions, that John Quincy Adams, by attempting to 
present a petition purporting to be from slaves, has been guilty of 
gross disrespect to the house, and that he be instantly brought to 
the bar to receive the severe censure of the speaker.’^ 

Never were assailants more thoroughly discomfited. ^‘Mr. 
Speaker,’^ said Mr. Adams, “ to prevent the consumption of time, I 
ask the gentlemen to modify their resolution a little, so that, when 
I come to the bar of the house, I may not, by a word, put an end 
to it. I did not present the petition. I said that I had a pape* pur¬ 
porting to be a petition from slaves j and I asked the speaker 
whether he considered such a paper as included in the general 
order of the house, that all petitions relating to slavery should be 
laid upon the table. I intended to take the decision of the speaker 
before I went one step toward presenting that petition. This is 
the fact. 

“ I adhere to the right of petition. Where is your law which 
says the mean, the low, the degraded, shall be deprived of the right 
of petition ? Petition is supplication, entreaty, prayer. Where is the 
degree of vice or immorality which shall deprive the citizen of 
the right to supplicate for a boon, or to pray for mercy ? Where is 
such a law to be found ? It does not belong to the most abject 
despotism. There is no absolute monarch on earth, who is not 
compelled, by the constitution of his country, to receive the peti¬ 
tions of his people, whosoever they may be. The Sultan of Con¬ 
stantinople cannot walk the streets, and refuse to receive petitions 


JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 


201 


from the meanest and vilest in the land. The right of petition 
belongs to all; and, so far from refusing to present a petition 
because it might come from those’low in the estimation of the 
world, it would be an additional incentive, if such an ‘ incentive 
were wanting.” 

After a debate of extreme bitterness, running through four days, 
only twenty votes could be found to cast any censure upon Mi\ 
Adams. There was perhaps never a fiercer battle fought in legis¬ 
lative halls than Mr. Adams waged, for nearly a score of years, 
with the partisans of slavery in Congress. In every encounter, he 
came off victor. We have not space, in this brief sketch, to refer 
to his labors to secure a right appropriation for the Smithsonian 
Fund of half a million of dollars. At the age of seventy-four, he 
appeared in the Supreme Court of the United States, after an 
absence from that court of thirty years, to plead the cause of 'a 
few friendless negroes, the Amistad captives, who, with their own 
strong arms, had freed themsel ves * from the man-stealers.* His 
effort was crowned with complete success; and the poor Africans, 
abundantly furnished with the implements of civilized life, were 
returned to the homes from which they had been so ruthlessly 
torn. 

In 1839, Congress was for a time seriously disorganized in con¬ 
sequence of two delegations appearing from New Jersey, each 
claiming the election. By usage, the clerk of the preceding Con¬ 
gress, on the first assembling, acts as chairman until a speaker is 
chosen. When, in calling the roll, the clerk came to New Jersey, 
he stated, that, as the five seats of the members from that State were 
contested, he should pass over those names. A violent debate 
ensued. For four days there was anarchy, and it was found im¬ 
possible to organize the house. Mr. Adams, during all this scene 
of confusion, sat quietly engaged in writing, apparently taking no 
interest in the debate, but, like a sagacious general on the battle 
field, watching intently for the moment when he could effectually 
make a movement. 

On the morning of the fourth day, the clerk again commenced 
calling the roll. When he reached New Jersey, he again repeated, 
as these seats are contested ,* when Mr. Adams sprang to the 
floor, and in clear, shrill tones, which penetrated every portion of 
the house, cried out, — 

I rise to interrupt the clerk.” 


26 


202 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


A multitude of voices shouted, Hear him ! hear him I — hear 
John Quincy Adams ! 

In an instant, there was profound silence. Every eye was 
riveted upon that venerable old man, whose years and honors, 
and purity of character, commanded the respect of the bitterest 
of his foes. For a moment he paused ; and there was such stillness, 
that the fall of a sheet of paper might have been heard. Then, in 
those tones of intensity which ever arrested the attention of the 
house, he said, — 

It was not my intention to take any part in these extraordinary 
proceedings. I had hoped that this house would succeed in organ 
izing itself. This is not the time or place to discuss the merits of con¬ 
flicting claimants : that subject belongs to the House of Representa¬ 
tives. What a spectacle we here present! We do not and cannot or¬ 
ganize ; and why ? Because the clerk of this house — the mere 
clerk, whom we create, whom we employ — usurps the throne^ and 
sets us, the vicegerents of the* whole American people, at defiance. 
And what is this clerk of yours ? Is he to suspend, by his mere nega¬ 
tive, the functions of Government, and put an end to this Congress. 
He refuses to call the roll. It is in your power to compel him to 
call it, if he will not do it voluntarily.’^ 

Here he was interrupted by a member, who stated that the 
clerk could not be compelled to call the roll, as he would resign 
rather than do so. 

Well sir, let him resign,” continued Mr. Adams, “and we may 
possibly discover some way by which we can get along without 
the aid of his all-powerful talent, learning, and genius. If we can¬ 
not organize in any other way, if this clerk of yours will not con¬ 
sent to our discharging the trust confided to us by our constituents, 
then let us imitate the example of the Virginia House of Burgesses, 
which, when the colonial Gov. Dinwiddle ordered it to disperse, 
refused to obey the imperious and insulting mandate, and like 
men” — 

Here there was such a burst of applause from the whole house, 
that, for a moment, his voice was drowned. Cheer upon cheer 
rose, shaking the walls of the Capitol. As soon as he could again 
be heard, he submitted.a motion, requiring the clerk to call the 
roll. “ How shall the question be put ? ” The voice of Mr. Adams 
was heard rising above the tumult, as he cried out, “ I intend to 
put the question myself! ” 


JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 


203 


Another burst of applause followed; when Mr. Barnwell Rhett 
of South Carolina leaped upon one of the desks, and shouted, “ I 



JOHN QUINCY ADAMS IN THE HOUSE OF REPKESENTATIVES. 


move that the Hon. John Quincy Adams take the chair of the 
speaker of the house, and oflSciate as presiding officer till the house 
be organized by the election of its constitutional officers. As many 
as are agreed to this will say ^ Ay ! ^ ” 

One universal, thundering “ Ay I came back in response. Mr. 
Adams was conducted to the chair, and the house was organized. 
Mr. Wise of Virginia, soon after addressing him, said,— 

“ Sir, I regard it as the proudest hour of your life; and if, when 
you shall be gathered to your fathers, I were asked to select the 
words, which, in my judgment, are best calculated to give at once 
the character of the man, I would inscribe upon your tomb this 
sentence, ^ I will put the question myself.’ ” 

In January, 1842, Mr. Adams presented a petition from forty- 
five citizens of Haverhill, Mass., praying for the peaceable dissolu¬ 
tion of the Union. The proslavery party in Congress, who were 
then plotting the destruction of the Government, were roused to a 




















204 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


pretence of commotion such as even our stormy hall of legislation 
has rarely witnessed. They met in caucus, and, finding that they 
probably would not be able to expel Mr. Adams from the house, 
drew up a series of resolutions, which, if adopted, would inflict 
upon him disgrace equivalent to expulsion. Mr. Adams had pre 
sented the petition, which was most respectfully , worded, and had 
moved that it be referred to a committee instructed to report an 
answer, showing the reasons why the prayer ought not to be 
granted. 

It was the 25th of January. The whole body of the proslavery 
party came crowding together into the house, prepared to crush 
Mr. Adams' forever. One of their number, Thomas F. Marshall of 
Kentucky, was appointed to read the resolutions, which accused 
Mr. Adams of high treason, of having insulted the Government, 
and.of meriting expulsion; but for which deserved punishment, the 
house, in its great mercy, would substitute its severest censure. 
With the assumption of a very solemn and magisterial air, there 
being breathless silence in the imposing audience, Mr. Marshall 
hurled the carefully prepared anathemas at his victim. Mr. 
Adams stood alone, the whole proslavery party madly against him. 

As soon as the resolutions were read, every eye being fixed upon 
him, up rose that bold old man, whose scattered locks were whi¬ 
tened by seventy-five years ; and casting a withering glance in the 
direction of his assailants, in a clear, shrill tone, tremulous with 
suppressed emotion, he said, — 

‘‘ In reply to this audacious, atrocious charge of high treason, I 
call for the reading of the first paragraph of the Declaration of 
Independence. Read it, read it! and see what that says of the 
right of a people to reform, to change, and to dissolve their Gov¬ 
ernment.” 

The attitude, the manner, the tone, the words ; the venerable old 
man, with flashing eye and flushed cheek, and whose very form 
seemed to expand under the inspiration of the occasion, — all pre¬ 
sented a scene overawing in its sublimity. There was breathless 
silence as that paragraph was read, in defence of whose principles 
our fathers had pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred 
honor. It was a proud hour to Mr. Adams as they were all com¬ 
pelled to listen to the words, — 

That, to secure these rights, governments are instituted am^ng 
men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed; 


JOHN QUINCT ADAMS. 


205 


and that, whenever any form of government becomes destructive 
of those ends, it is the right of the people to alter or abolish it, and 
to institute new government, laying its foundations on such prin¬ 
ciples, and organizing its powers in such form, as shall seem most 
likely to effect their safety and happiness.” 

That one sentence baffled and routed the foe. The heroic old 
man looked around upon the audience, and thundered out, Read 
that again! ” It was again read. Then, in a few fiery, logical 
words, he stated his defence in terms which even prejudiced minds 
could not resist. His discomfited assailants made sundry attempts 
to 'rally. After a conflict of eleven days, they gave up vanquished, 
and their resolution was ignominiously laid upon the table. 

It is pleasant to see that such heroism is eventually appreciated. 
In the summer of 1843, Mr. Adams took a tour through Western 
New York. His journey was a perfect ovation. In all the lead¬ 
ing cities, he was received with the highest marks of consideration. 
The whole mass of the people rose to confer honor upon the man 
who had battled so nobly for human rights, and whose public and 
private character was without a stain. The greeting which he 
received at Buffalo was such as that city had never before con¬ 
ferred upon any man. The national flag was floating from every 
masthead. The streets were thronged with the multitude, who 
greeted with bursts of applause the renowned patriot and states¬ 
man as soon as he appeared. The Hon. Millard Fillmore, subse¬ 
quently President of the United States, welcomed him in the fol¬ 
lowing words: — 

You see here assembled the people of our infant city, without 
distinction of party, sex, age, or condition, — all, all, anxiously vy¬ 
ing with each other to show their respect and esteem for your 
public and private worth. Here are gathered, in this vast multi¬ 
tude of what must appear to you strange faces, thousands whose 
hearts have vibrated to the chord of sympathy which your speeches 
have touched. Here is reflecting age, and ardent youth, and lisp¬ 
ing childhood, to all of whom your venerated name is dear as 
household words,— all anxious to feast their eyes by a sight of 
that extraordinary and venerable man, that old man eloquent^ upon 
whose lips Wisdom has distilled her choicest nectar. Here you see 
them all, and read in their eager and joy-gladdened countenances, 
and brightly beaming eyes, a welcome, a thrice-told, heartfelt, 
soul-stirring welcome, to the man whom they delight to honor.” 


206 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


In January, 1846, when seventy-eight years of age, he took part 
in the great debate on the Oregon question, displaying intellectual 
vigor, and an extent and accuracy of acquaintance with the sub¬ 
ject, which excited great admiration. At the close of the session, 
on the 17th of November, he had an attack of paralysis while walk¬ 
ing in the streets of Boston. He, however, so far recovered, that 
he soon resumed his official duties in Washington. As he entered 
the house on the 16th of February, 1847, for the first time mnce 
his illness, every member instinctively rose in token of respect; 
and by two members he was formally conducted to his seat. After 
this, though constantly present, he took but little part in the 
debates. 

It has been said of President Adams, that when his body was 
bent and his hair silvered by the lapse of fourscore years, yield¬ 
ing to the simple faith of a little child, he was accustomed to repeat 
every night, before he slept, the prayer which his mother taught 
him in his infant years. There is great moral beauty in the aspect 
of the venerable, world-worn statesman, folding his hands and clos¬ 
ing his eyes, as he repeated, in the simplicity and sincerity of 
childhood, the words, — 

“ Now I lay me down to sleep, 

I pray the Lord my soul to keep : 

If I should die before I wake, 

I pray the Lord my soul to take.” 


On the 21st of February, 1848, he rose on the floor of Congress, 
with a paper in his hand, to* address the speaker. Suddenly he fell, 
again stricken by paralysis, and was caught in the arms of those 
around him. For a time he was senseless, as he was conveyed to 
a sofa in the rotunda. With reviving consciousness, he opened his 
eyes, looked calmly around, and said, This is the end of earth ; ” 
then, after a moment’s pause, he added, ‘^7 am contenV^ These 
were his last words. His family were summoned to his side ; and 
in the apartment of the speaker of the house, beneath the dome 
of the Capitol, — the theatre of his labors and his triumphs, —- he 
soon breathed his last. 

The voices of denunciation were now hushed, and all parties 
united in tributes of honor to one of the purest patriots, and one 
of the most distinguished statesmen, America has produced. 


CHAPTER VfL 



the world wishes to know him as he was. One hundred years 
ago, in 1765, an Irishman of Scotch descent, extremely poor, 

emigrated, with his wife and two infant children, from the North 

207 


ANDREW JACKSON. 

Birth and Education. — A Bad Boy. — Keeps School. — Studies Law. — Emigrates. — Frontier 
Life. — Low Tastes. — A Representative. — Senator. — Judge. — Shop-keeper. — Major- 
General.— Quarrels and Duels. — Marriage and its Romance. — Fight with the Ben¬ 
tons.— War with the Indians. — Defence of New Orleans. — Passion and Violence.— 
President of the United States. — Administration. — Retirement. — Conversion. — Re¬ 
ligious Character. — Death. 

Paint me as I am,” said Cromwell to the young artist. There 
were lights and shades in the character of Andrew Jackson, and 


HERMITAGE,—RESIDENCE OF ANDREW JACKSON. 







208 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


of Ireland to South Carolina. George III. had then been five 
years on his throne. The old French war, which gave Canada to 
England, had just ended. The humble .emigrants had no money 
to purchase land. They, however, landing at Charleston, pene¬ 
trated the wild interior, in a north-west direction, a hundred and 
sixty miles, and built their log hut on a branch of the Catawba 
River, called Waxhaw Creek, formerly the seat of the Waxhaw 
Indians. They were on the boundary-line between the Carolinas. 

The lonely settlers in this wilderness of pines had reared their 
cabin, cleared an opening in the forest, and raised one crop, 
when the husband and father fell sick and died. Mrs. Jackson, 
with her two little boys, and just on the eve of again becoming a 
mother, was thus, left in utter destitution. Not far from the cabin 
of the deceased, there was a room built of logs, called a church. 
The corpse was taken in a wagon; the widow and her two chil¬ 
dren sat by its side; and in a field near by the body was 
buried, no one can now tell where. 

The grief-stricken widow did not return to her desolated home. 
There was nothing to draw her there. From the grave, she 
drove a few miles to the cabin of Mr. McKenne}^, who had married 
her sister, and who lived across the border, in North Carolina. 
There, in that lonely log hut, in the extreme of penury, with a 
few friendly women to come to her aid, she, within a few days, 
gave birth to Andrew Jackson, the child whose fame as a man 
has filled the civilized world. It was the 15th of March, 17G7. 
A few lines tell this story. But where is the pencil or the pen 
which can delineate its true pathos?—the cabin, the pain-crushed, 
heart-stricken mother, the clotheless babe, the coarse fare, the 
penury, the wild surroundings, and the cheerlessness with which 
the dark future opened before the widow and the orphans. 

Could some good angel then have opened to that Chi’stian 
mother (for she was a true Christian of the Presbyterian faith) the 
future career of her son,—his renown, his influence, his conversion 
to Christ, his triumphant death, and that honor, glory, and immor¬ 
tality to which we trust ho has attained in the spirit-land,— she 
might have smiled through her anguish, and exclaimed, “These 
light afilictions are indeed but for a moment, and work out for us 
a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.’’ Mother and 
child have long ago met in heaven, and earthly griefs are gone 
forever. 


ANDREW JACKSON. 


209 


Three weeks after the birth of Andrew, the widow, leaving hei 
eldest little boy with Mr. McKenney, went with the babe and the 
other child a distance of two miles to the cabin of another brother- 
in-law, Mr. Crawford, whose wife was an invalid. Here Mrs. 
Jackson remained with her children for ten years, receiving the 
hospitality of her kind brother, and repaying it, as far as possible, 
by that hard work of washing, mending, and cooking, which is 
inseparable from frontier-life. 

Andrew, or Andy as he was universally called, grew up a very 
rough, rude, turbulent boy. His features were coarse, his form 
ungainly ; and there was but very little in his character, made 
visible, which was attractive. A companion said of him, “ Andy 
is the only bully I ever knew who was not a coward.” A 
mother’s prayers must have been ascending earnestly for him; for 
even then, in her utter penury, she was endeavoring to devise 
some way by which she could educate him for the Christian 
ministry. 

When five or six years of age, he was sent to what was called 
a school, in a wretched log pen about twenty feet square. Here 
he learned to read tolerably well. Spelling was an art which he 
never attained. He learned to write in characters which those 
skilful in hieroglyphics could read. He also became somewhat 
familiar with the four fundamental rules of arithmetic. This 
seems to te about the substance of all the school education he 
ever received. 

He grew up to be a tall, lank boy, with coarse hair and freckled 
cheeks, with bare feet dangling from trousers too short for him, 
very fond of athletic sports, running, boxing, wrestling. He was 
generous to the younger and weaker boys, but very irascible and 
overbearing with his equals and superiors. He was profane, 
marvellously profane,—a vice in which he surpassed all other men, 
and which clung to him, until, after the age of threescore years, 
he learned of Christ to “ swear not at all.” 

The character of his mother he revered 5 and it was not until 
after her death that his predominant vices gained full strength. 
Through some unknown influence, he imbibed such a reverenct> 
for the character of woman, and such firm principles of purity, 
that in that respect he was without iieproach. 

When nine years of age, the Declaration of Independence was 
signed. The billows of war soon swept down into the Carolinas, 
27 


210 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


bringing terror, blood, and desolation to the humble cabins oi 
the Waxhaw. More intense was the animosity, and more bitter 
the strife, between the patriot and the tory, than between the 
armies which were facing each other in the field. As Tarleton and 
his dragoons came thundering along, the older brother, Hugh, not 
yet eighteen years of age, rode with a volunteer company to 
meet him, and died of heat and exhaustion at the battle of Stono. 

With three hundred horsemen, Tarleton surprised a detachment 
of militia at the Waxhaw settlement, killed one hundred and thir¬ 
teen, wounded one hundred and fifty, and captured or put to flight 
all the rest. The old log meeting-house was used as a hospital. 
Mrs. Jackson was unwearied in nursing the wounded soldiers. 
Andrew, a boy of thirteen, and his brother, assisted their mother 
in these works of mercy. Andrew at times expressed the most 
intense desire to avenge their wounds and his brother’s death. 

In August, 1780, the victorious army of Cornwallis rushed 
upon Waxhaw ; and Mrs. Jackson, with her two boys, fled before 
them. Andrew was placed in the family of Mrs. Wilson, in Char¬ 
lotte, where he paid for his board by being a servant of all work. 
Here his rage against the British found vent in forming various 
kinds of weapons, which he would swing, expressing the delight 
it would give him thus to beat the British down. He remained 
in this place for about six months, and then the family returned 
to their ravaged home at Waxhaw. Andrew was now fourteen, 
tall as a man, but slender and weak from his rapid growth. 
Terrible was the maddened strife in that neighborhood between 
whig and tory. A band of tories made a midnight attack upon the 
house of a whig. Andrew Jackson was there as one of the guard. 
Quite a little battle ensued, in which he behaved gallantly, and the 
tories were repulsed. This was the first time he took part in active 
service. Cornwallis sent a body of dragoons to aid the tories. 
They surrounded the patriots, routed them with slaughter, and 
Andrew and his brother were taken prisoners. A British officer 
ordered him to brush his mud-spattered boots. I am a prisoner 
of war, not your servant,” was the reply of the dauntless boy. 

The brute drew his sword, and aimed a desperate blow at the 
head of the helpless young prisoner. Andrew raised his hand, and 
thus received two fearful gashes, — one upon his hand, and the 
other upon his head. The officer then turned to his brother 
Robert with the same demand. He also refused, and received a 


ANDREW JACKSON. 


211 


blow from the keen-edged sabre, which quite disabled him, and 
which probably soon after caused his death. 

The two wounded boys, one fourteen and the other sixteen, 
with twenty other prisoners, were hurried olF to Camden in South 
Carolina, forty miles distant, where the British were in strength. 
Their brutal captors allowed them no food or water by the way, 
and would not even permit them to drink from the streams they 
forded. At Camden, they were thrown into a contracted en¬ 
closure, without beds, medical attendance, or any means of dress¬ 
ing their wounds. Their supply of food was scanty and bad. 
Days and nights of misery passed away. The small-pox, in its 
most loathsome form, broke out. The dying and the dead were 
all together. Mrs. Jackson, hearing of the sufferings of her beys, 
hastened to their relief. 

There was resistless energy in a mother^s love. She succeeded 
in obtaining the release of her sons by exchange, and gazed 
liorror-stricken upon their wan and wasted frames. Having 
obtained two horses, she placed Robert, who was too weak to 
stand, or even to sit in his saddle, upon one, where he was held 
in his seat by some of the returning prisoners. Mrs. Jackson 
rode the other. Andrew, bareheaded, barefooted, clothed in rags, 
sick even then with the small-pox, and so weak that he could 
scarcely drag one limb after the other, toiled painfully behind. 
Thus they made their journey through the wilderness for forty 
miles, — from Camden back to Waxhaw. 

Before this sad family reached their home, a drenching rain¬ 
storm set in. The mother at length got her sons, both sick of 
small-pox, home and to bed. In two days, Robert was dead, and 
Andrew apparently dying in the wildest ravings of delirium. 
The strength of his constitution triumphed; and, after months of 
languor, he regained health and strength. 

As he was getting better, his mother heard the cry of anguish 
from the prisoners whom the British held in Charleston, among 
whom were the sons of her sisters. She hastened to their relief, 
was attacked by fever, died, and was buried where her grave 
could never afterwards be found. A small bundle of the clothing 
which she wore was the only memorial of his mother which was 
returned to her orphan boy. Thus Andrew Jackson, when four¬ 
teen years of age, was left alone in the world, without father, 
mother, sister, or brother, and without one dollar which he could 
call his own. 


^12 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

Before Andrew had fully recovered his strength, he entered a 
shop to learn the trade of a saddler, and for six months labored 
diligently in this calling. But gradually, as health returned, he 
became more and more a wild, reckless, lawle^ boy. He drank, 
gambled, fought cocks, and was regarded as abot.t the worst 
character that could anywhere be found. In December, 1782, the 
British having evacuated Charleston, Andrew, who by some means 
had come into possession of a fine horse, mounted him, and rode 
through the wilderness to Charleston. Having no money, he soon 
ran up a long bill at the tavern. One evening, as he was strolling the 
streets, he entered a gambling-house, and was challenged to stake 
his horse^ against two hundred dollars. He won. With this 
money he settled his bill, mounted his horse, and rode home 
through the solitary pine-barrens, reflecting not very pleasantly 
upon the past, and forming plans for the future. 

He now turned schoolmaster. A school in a log hut in those 
wilds was a very humble institution. Andrew Jackson could 
teach the alphabet, perhaps the multiplication-table; and, as he was 
a very bold boy, it is not impossible that he might have adventured 
to teach handwriting. And now he began to think of a profes¬ 
sion, and decided to study law. With a very slender purse, and 
on the back of a very fine horse, he set out for Salisbury, N.C,, 
a distance of about seventy-five miles, where he entered the 
law-office of Mr. McCay. Andrew was then eighteen years of 
age. Here he remained for two years, professedly studying law. 
He is still vividly remembered in the traditions of Salisbury, 
which traditions say, — 

‘‘ Andrew Jackson was the most roaring, rollicking, game- 
cocking, horse-racing, card-playing, mischievous fellow that ever 
lived in Salisbury. He did not trouble the law-books much. 
He was more in the stable than in the office. He was the head 
of all the rowdies hereabouts.” 

Andrew was now, at the age of twenty, a tall young man, 
standing six feet and an inch in his stockings. He was very 
slender, but remarkably dignified and graceful in his manners, an 
exquisite horseman, and developing, amidst his loathsome profan¬ 
ity and multiform vices, a vein of rare magnanimity. His temper 
was fiery in the extreme; but it was said of him, that no man 
knew better than Andrew Jackson when to get angry, and when 
not. He was fond of all rough adventures, wild riding, camj)ing 


ANDREW JACKSON. 


213 


out; loved a horse passionately; and, though sagacious and pru¬ 
dent, was bold in facing danger. The experience through which 
he had passed in the Revolution had made him a very stanch 
republican. 

He had now got his profession. Again mounting his horse, he 
rode to Martinsville, N.C., where it seems that he spent a 
year as a clerk in a country store, waiting for an opportunity 
to open an oflSce somewhere. The whole of that region which we 
now call Tennessee was then almost an unexplored wilderness, 
called Washington County, N.C. It was ranged by bands of In¬ 
dians, who had been so outraged by vagabonds among the whites, 
that they had become bitterly hostile. Ravaged by Indian wars, 
it became a burden to North Carolina, and was ceded to Congress. 
There was a small settlement of pioneers, five hundred miles west 
of the summit of the Alleghanies, near the present site of Nash¬ 
ville, on the banks of the Cumberland. Jonesborough was another 
small settlement in East Tennessee, near the western base of the 
Alleghanies.. The intervening space was a wilderness, which 
could only be traversed by parties well guarded, to repel attacks 
to which they were constantly exposed. 

Andrew Jackson was appointed public prosecutor for the re¬ 
mote district of Nashville. It was an office of little honor, small 
emolument, and great peril. Few men could be found to accept 
it. Early in the spring of 1788, Jackson joined a party of 
emigrants, who rendezvoused at Morgantown, the last frontier 
settlement in North Carolina. They were all mounted on horse¬ 
back, with their baggage on pack-horses. In double file, the long 
cavalcade crossed the mountains by an Indian trail, which had 
widened into a road. Each night, they camped in the open air. 
’The journey of a few days brought them, without adventure, to 
Jonesborough, where there was a small settlement of about sixty 
log huts. They were now to enter the wilderness, which, for a 
distance of over two hundred miles, was filled with hostile bands 
of savages. There they waited several weeks for the arrival of 
other parties of emigrants, and for a guard from Nashville to 
escort them. Nearly one hundred composed the cavalcade, which 
included many women and children. 

One night, after a march of thirty-six hours, with only a halt of 
one short hour, they encamped at a point which was thought 
to be the most safe in the midst of the most perilous part of the 


214 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS 


journey. The women .and children, at an early hour, in utter ex^ 
haustion, had crept into their little tents. The men, with their 
blankets wrapped around them, were sleeping under the shelter 
of logs, with their feet toward the fire. The sentinels, with their 
muskets, were silently and sleepily standing on the watch. An¬ 
drew Jackson had retired a little apart from the rest, and sitting 
upon the ground, with his back against a tree, was smoking a 
corn-cob pipe. Lost in silent musing, at ten o’clock, just as he 
was beginning to fall asleep, his attention was arrested by the 
various notes of the owls hooting in the forest around him. Just 
then, he was startled by a louder hoot than usual, very near the 
camp. Instantly sijspicion flashed upon his mind. 

Grasping his rifle, and with all his faculties on the alert, he 
crept along to where a friend was sleeping, and startled him with 
the announcement, There are Indians all around us I I have 
heard them in every direction! They mean to attack us before 
'daybreak ! ” 

The experienced'woodsmen were aroused. They listened, and 
were fully confirmed in the same suspicion. Silently they broke 
up their camp, and, with the utmost caution, resumed their 
march. An hour after they had left, a party of hunters came, and 
occupied the spot. Before the day dawned, the Indians sprang 
from their ambush upon them, and all but one were killed. An¬ 
drew Jackson’s sagacity had saved his party. 

Late in October, 1788, this long train of emigrants reached 
Nashville. They took with them the exciting news that the new 
Constitution had been accepted by a majority of the States, and 
that George Washington would undoubtedly be elected the first 
president. It was estimated that then, in this outpost of civiliza¬ 
tion, there were scattered, in log huts clustered along the banks 
of the Cumberland, about five thousand souls. The Indians were 
so active in their hostilities, that it was not safe for any one to live 
far from the stockade. Every man took his rifle with him to the 
field. Children could not go out to gather berries, unless accom¬ 
panied by a guard. 

•Nashville had its aristocracy. Mrs. Donelson belonged to one 
of the first families. She was the widow of Col. John Donelson, 
and lived in a cabin of hewn logs, the most commodious dwelling 
in the. place. She had a beautiful, mirth-loving daughter, who 
had married a very uncongenial Kentuckian, Lewis Bobards, of 


ANDREW JACKSON. 


21b 


whom but little that is good can be said. She and her husband 
lived with her widowed mother, and Andrew Jackson was re¬ 
ceived into the family as a boarder. It was an attractive home 
for him. Of the gay and lively Mrs. Robards it is said, that she 
was then the best story-teller, the best dancer, the spright- 
liest companion, the most dashing horsewoman, in the Western 
country. 

And now Andrew Jackson commenced vigorously the practice 
of law. It was an important part of his business to collect debts. 
It required nerve. Many desperate men carried pistols and 
knives. There were some disputed claims to adjust. A court¬ 
house ill that country, at that time, consisted of a hut of unhewn 
logs, without floor, door, or wdndow. Long journeys through the 
wilderness were necessary to reach the distant cabins where 
the courts were held. During the first seven years of his resi¬ 
dence in those wilds, he traversed the almost pathless forest 
between Nashville and Jonesborough, a distance of two hundred 
miles, twenty-two times. Hostile Indians were constantly on the 
watch, and a man was liable at any moment to be shot down in 
his own field. Andrew Jackson was just the man for this service,— 
a wild, rough, daring backwoodsman. He sometimes camped in 
the woods for twenty successive nights, not daring to shoot a 
deer, or to kindle a fire, lest he should attract the attention of 
some roving band of savages. 

One night, after dark, he came to a creek, swollen by the rains 
to a roaring torrent. It was pitch-dark, and the rain was falling 
in floods. He could not ford the stream; he dared not light a 
fire ; it was not safe to let his horse move about to browse. He 
took off the saddle, placed it at the foot of a tree, and sat upon it; 
wrapped his blanket over his shoulders; held his bridle in one 
hand, and his rifle in the other; and thus, drenched with rain, and 
listening fo the wail of the storm and the rush of the torrent, 
waited the dawn. He then mounted his horse, swam the creek, 
and proceeded on his journey. 

“ You see how near,” Andrew Jackson once said, I can graze 
danger 1” Daily he was making hair-breadth escapes. He seemed 
to bear a charmed life. Boldly, alone or with few companions, he 
traversed the forests, encountering all perils, and triumphing 
over all. 

Mrs. Robards and her husband lived unhappily together. He 


216 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


was jealous of her, but, in the judgment of all acquainted with 
the facts, without any cause. Before Mr. Jackson’s arrival, he 
had once, from his jealous disposition, separated from her. Andrew 
Jackson was an exceedingly polite, gallant, fascinating man with 
ladies. Capt. Robards became jealous of Jackson, and treated Mrs. 
Robards with great cruelty. Jackson decided, in consequence, 
to leave the house, but determined first to have a little conversa¬ 
tion with Mr. Robards. He found the man abusive and unrelent¬ 
ing; and Mr. Jackson, offering to meet him in a duel if he desired 
it, retired from the family, and took board in another place. Soon 
after this, Mr. and Mrs. Robards separated. The affair caused 
Andrew Jackson great uneasiness; for though he knew that the 
parties had separated once before, and though conscious of inno¬ 
cence, he found himself to be the unfortunate cause of the present 
scandal. It was rumored that Capt. Robards, who had gone to 
Kentucky, was about to return. A friend of Andrew Jackson, 
subsequently Judge Overton, who was then his intimate conipan- 
ion, writes, that, perceiving Mr. Jackson to be much depressed, he 
inquired the cause. The reply was, — 

“ I am the most unhappy of men, in having innocently and un 
intentionally been the cause of the loss of peace and happiness ol 
Mrs. Robards, whom I believe to be a fine woman.” 

To escape from the persecutions of her husband, she decided 
to go to Natchez with the family of an elderly gentleman. Col. 
Stark. As there was great danger from the Indians, Col. Stark 
entreated Mr. Jackson to accompany them as a guard. He did so, 
and returned to Nashville. This was in the spring of 1791. 

Capt. Robards applied to the Legislature of Virginia for a hill ' 
of divorce. It was granted by an act of the Legislature, pro¬ 
vided that the Supreme Court should adjudge that there was cause 
for such divorce. Robards laid aside this act, and did nothing 
about it for two years. Virginia was far away. The ti^ansmission 
of intelligence was very slow. It was announced in Nashville 
that Robards had obtained a divorce. This was universally be¬ 
lieved. No one doubted it. Mrs. Robards believed it: Andrew 
Jackson believed it. Influenced by this belief, Andrew Jackson 
and Rachel Robards woire married in the fall of 1791. No one 
acquainted thoroughly with the parties and the facts doubted of 
the purity of the connection. 

Two years after this, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson learned, to theii 


ANDREW JACKSON. 


217 


great surprise, that Robards had just obtained a divorce in one 
of the courts of Kentucky, and that the act of the Virginia Legis¬ 
lature was not final, but conditional. Thus Mr. Jackson had, in 
reality, been married for tWo years to another man^s wife, though 
neither he nor Mrs. Jackson had been guilty of the slightest 
intentional wrong. To remedy the irregularity as far as possible, 
a new license was obtained, and the marriage ceremony was again 
performed. 

It proved to be a marriage of rare felicity. Probably there 
never was a more affectionate union. However rough Mr. Jack- 
son might have been abroad, he was always gentle and tender at 
home; and, through all the vicissitudes of their lives, he treated 
Mrs. Jackson with the most chivalric attentions. He was always 
very sensitive upon the question of his marriage. No one could 
breathe a word which reflected a suspicion upon the purity of 
this affair but at the risk of pistol-shot instantly through his brain. 

The country was rapidly prospering. The Indians were quelled, 
and thousands of emigrants were pouring into the inviting ter¬ 
ritory. Mr. Jackson, purchasing large tracts of land, and selling 
lots to settlers, was becoming rich. The following anecdote, which 
he related when President, sheds light upon his own character 
and upon the times. A friend in Washington was expecting to be 
assailed in the streets by a political opponent: — 

Now,’’ said the general to him, “ if any man attacks you, I 
know how you’ll fight him with that big black stick of yours. 
You’ll aim right for his head. Well, sir, ten chances to one he 
will ward it off; and, if you do hit him, you won’t bring him down. 
No, sir ” (taking the stick into his own hands): “ you hold the 
stick so, and punch him in the stomach, and you’ll drop him. I’ll 
tell you how I found that out. 

‘‘ When I was a young man, practising law in Tennessee, there 
was a big, bullying fellow that wanted to pick a quarrel with me, 
and so trod on my toes. Supposing it accidental, I said nothing. 
Soon after, he did it again; and I began to suspect his object. In 
a few minutes he came by a third time, pushing against me 
violently, and evidently meaning fight. He was a man of immense 
gjV^e,— one of the very biggest men I ever saw. As quick as a Hash, 
I snatched a small rail from the top of the fence, and gave him the 
point of it full in the stomach. Sir, it doubled him up. He fell 
at my feet, and I stamped on him. Soon he got up savage^ and 
28 


218 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


was about to fly at me like a tiger. The bystanders made as 
though they would interfere. Says I, ^ Gentlemen, stand back r 
give me room, that^s all I ask, and Pll manage him.^ With that I 
stood ready, with the rail pointed. He gave me one look, and 
tuz’iied away a whipped man, and feeling like one. So, sir, I say 
to you, if any villain assaults you, give him the pint in his belly.” 

In these wild regions, and among these rough frontiersmen, 
such pluck gave a man an enviable reputation. Jackson was 
always ready for a flght. An opposing lawyer ridiculed some posi¬ 
tion he had taken. He tore a blank leaf from a law-book, wrote a 
peremptory challenge, and handed it to his opponent. They met 
that evening in a glen, exchanged shots, w^hich did not hit, shook 
hands, and became friends again. 

Jackson loved cock-fighting. He kept chickens for that purpose. 
When, upon one occasion, one of his chickens, after being struck 
down, revived, and by a lucky stroke killed his antagonist. Jack- 
son, turning to a companion, exclaimed, delighted, There is the 
greatest emblem of bravery on earth I Bonaparte is not braver !” 

In January, 1796, the Territory of Tennessee then containing 
nearly eighty thousand inhabitants, the people met in convention 
at Knoxville to frame a constitution. Five were sent from each 
of the eleven counties. Andrew Jackson was one of the delegates 
from Davidson County. They met in a shabby building in a grove 
outside of the city. It was fitted up for the occasion at an ex¬ 
pense of twelve dollars and sixty-two cents. The members were 
entitled to two dollars and a half a day. They voted to receive 
but a dollar and a half, that the other dollar might go to the pay¬ 
ment of secretary, printer, door-keeper, &c. A constitution was 
formed, which was regarded as very democratic; and in June, 
1796, Tennessee became the sixteenth State in the Union. 

The new State was entitled to but one member in the national 
House of Representatives. Andrew Jackson was chosen that 
member. Mounting his horse, he rode to Philadelphia, where 
Congress then held its sessions, — a distance of eight hundred 
miles. Albert Gallatin thus describes the first appearance of the 
Hon. Andrew Jackson in the House: — 

A tall, lank, uncouth-looking personage, with locks of hair 
hanging over his face, and a cue down his back, tied with an eel- 
skin, his dress singular, his manners and deportment those of a 
rough backwoodsman.” 


ANDREW JACKSON. 


219 


Jackson was an earnest advocate of the Democratic party. 
Jefferson was his idol. He admired Bono parte, loved France, and 
hated England, ^s Mr. Jackson took his seat, Gen. Washington, 
whose second term of service was then expiring, delivered his last 
speech to Congress. A committee drew up a complimentary ad¬ 
dress in reply. Andrew Jackson did not approve of the address, 
and was one of twelve who voted against it. He was not willing 
to say that Gen. Washington’s administration had been “wise,, 
firm, and patriotic.” 

Tennessee had fitted out an expedition against the Indians, 
contrary to the policy of the Government. A resolution was in¬ 
troduced, that the National Government should pay the expenses. 
Jackson advocated it. It was carried. This rendered Mr. Jack- 
son very popular in Tennessee. A vacancy chanced soon after 
to occur in the Senate, and Andrew Jackson was chosen United- 
States senator by the State of Tennessee. John Adams was then 
President; Thomas Jefferson, Vice-President. 

Many years after this, when Mr. Jefferson had retired from the 
presidential chair, and Andrew Jackson was candidate for the pres¬ 
idency, Daniel Webster spent some days at the romantic home of 
the sage of Monticello. He represents Mr. Jefferson as saying,— 

“ I feel much alarmed at the prospect of seeing Gen. Jackson 
President. He is one of the most unfit men I know of for such a 
place. He has very little respect for law or constitutions; and 
is, in fact, an able military chief. His passions are terrible. 
When I was President of the Senate, he was senator; and he could 
never speak, on account of the rashness of his feelings. I have 
seen him attempt it repeatedly, and as often choke with rage. 
His passions are no doubt cooler now. He has been much tried 
since I knew him; but he is a dangerous man.” 

In I79S, Mr. Jackson returned to Tennessee, and resigned his 
seat in the Senate. Soon after, he was chosen Judge of the Su¬ 
preme Court of that State, with a salary of six hundred dollars. 
This office he held for six years. It is said that his decisions, 
though sometimes ungrammatical, were generally right. 

When Senator Jackson was one of the judges of the Supreme 
Court of Tennessee, John Sevier was Governor of the State. 1 here 
had been some altercation between them; and Jackson had chal¬ 
lenged Sevier to a duel, which Sevier had declined. They met 
one day in the streets of Knoxville in a very unfriendly mood. 


220 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


In the conversation which ensued, Judge Jackson alluded to the 
services which he had rendered the State. “ Services! exclaimed 
the governor: “ I know of none, except a trip to Natchez with an¬ 
other man’s wife.” — “ Great God ! ” cried out Judge Jackson, do 
you mention her sacred name ? ” He immediately drew a pistol, and 
fired. The governor returned the shot. The bullets whistled through 
the crowded streets of Knoxville. Bystanders separated them. 

Soon after. Judge Jackson, when travelling with a friend. Dr. 
Vandyke, met upon the road Gov. Sevier, with his son. The 
judge immediately drew his pistol, and ordered the governor to 
defend himself. The governor leaped from his horse, and the 
frightened animal ran away. Young Sevier drew upon Jackson; 
Dr. Vandyke drew upon Sevier. Some chance travellers came 
up, and stopped the fray. 

The quarrel between the judge and the governor enlisted par¬ 
tisans on either side; and several scenes of clamor and violence 
occurred, which we have not space to record. Judge Jackson 
did not enjo}^ his seat upon the bench, and renounced the dignity 
in the summer of 1804. About this time, he was chosen major- 
general of militia, and lost the title of judge in that of general. 
When he retired from the Senate Chamber, it seems that he had 
decided to try his fortune through trade. He purchased a stock 
of goods in Philadelphia, sent them to Pittsburg by wagon, down 
the Ohio to Louisville in flat-boats, thence by wagons or pack- 
horses to Nashville, where he opened a store. 

He lived about thirteen miles from Nashville, on a tract of land 
of several thousand acres, mostly uncultivated. He used a small 
block-house for his store, from a narrow window of which he sold 
goods to the Indians. As he had an assistant, his office as judge 
did not materially interfere with this business. The general 
tended store, sent goods, and, it is said, occasionally negroes, 
down the Mississippi. As to slavery, born in the midst of it, the 
idea never seemed to enter his mind that it could be wrong. He 
became eventually an extensive slave-owner; but he was one of 
the most humane and gentle of masters. At a horse-race, where 
Gen. Jackson brought forward his favorite horse Truxton, and 
where the stakes on either side were two thousand dollars, the 
general became involved in a quarrel with a young man by the 
name of Swann. He refused to accept the challenge of Swann, 
who was a young lawyer just from Virginia, upon the ground that 


ANDREW JACKSON. 


221 


. he was not a gentleman ; but beat him with his bludgeon. It was 
a very disgraceful quarrel. 

This led to another difficulty, with Mr. Charles Dickenson, who 
was also a lawyer, and a dealer in country produce. Jackson 
challenged him to a duel, and insisted upon an immediate fight. 
The meeting was appointed at a day's ride from Nashville, at 
seven o’clock in the morning of Friday, May 30, 1806. The par¬ 
ties were to stand facing each other, twenty-four feet apart, with 
pistols down. At the word “ Fire I" they were to discharge their 
pistols as soon as they pleased. 

Dickenson had a young and beautiful wife and an infant child, 
and was said to have been a very amiable man. As he stole from 
the side of his wife and child early on Thursday morning, stating 
that he had business which called him to Kentucky, he kissed her, 
saying, “ Good-by, darling! I shall be sure to be at home to¬ 
morrow night." Meeting a gay party of his friends, they rode off 
in the highest spirits. Dickenson was a sure shot. He could 
strike a dollar with his bullet, and even cut a string, at the dis¬ 
tance of twenty-four feet. Gen. Jackson and his party followed. 
The two parties spent the night at houses about two'miles from 
each other. 

The next morning, they met in a grove. Dickenson got the 
first fire. His aim was unerring; but the ball broke a rib, and 
glanced, leaving a bad but not dangerous wound. Jackson then 
took deliberate aim. Dickenson, appalled by the certain death 
which awaited him, recoiled a step or two. “ Back to the marhy 
sir ! " shouted Jackson’s second. The unhappy man took his stand. 
Again Jackson raised his pistol with calm, determined aim, and 
pulled the trigger. The pistol did not go off. He examined it, 
and found that it had stopped at half-cock. Re-adjusting it, he 
again, unrelentingly, took cool aim, and fired. Dickenson reeled, 
and fell. The ball had passed through his body, just above the 
hips. Jackson and his party retired from the fields leaving the 
dying man in the hands of his friends. All day long he suffered 
agony which extorted shrieks from him, and in the evening died. 
The next day, his frantic wife, hurrying to his relief, met a wagon 
conveying back to Nashville his remains. Dickenson was con¬ 
vivial in his tastes, a great favorite in Nashville, and his untimely 
death excited profound sympathy. For a time, this affair greatly 
injured Gen. Jackson’s popularity. The verdict then was, and 


222 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


continues to be, that Gen. Jackson was outrageously wrong. If he 
subsequently felt any remorse, he never revealed it to any one but 
to God. 



THE DUEL. 


Gen. Jackson at this time resided in a very humble house on 
what was called The Hermitage Farm.^’ It consisted of one 
room on the lower floor, and two above. There was no ceiling. 
A trap-door in the middle of the floor opened into a hole for 
storage. There was another smaller cabin near by, connected 
by a covered passage. Gen. Jackson’s rustic taste was amply 
satisfied with these accommodations. He desired nothing better. 
Subsequently, when to gratify his wife he built the comfortable 
house called “ The Hermitage,” these two buildings were con¬ 
verted into negro cabins. The general was proverbial for his 
hospitality, and the low as well as the high were equally wel¬ 
come. Aaron Burr made the general a visit of five days. On 
his return from New Orleans, he made another visit to the Hermit¬ 
age Farm of eight days. He writes,— 

For a week, I have been lounging at the house of Gen. 




ANDREW JACKSON. 


223 


Jackson, once a lawyer, afterwards a judge, now a planter ; a man 
of intelligence, and one of those frank, ardent souls whom I love 
to meet.’’ 

Gradually Gen. Jackson began to suspect Burr of designs 
of dismembering the Union, and establishing a Southern empire, 
of which New Orleans was to be the capital, and Aaron Burr the 
sovereign. He communicated his suspicions to the Government, 
and offered his services. Subsequently he formed the opinion 
that Burr was innocent of any traitorous designs, and earnestly 
defended him, and became alienated from Jefferson and his ad¬ 
ministration. Gen. Jackson now withdrew from commercial 
pursuits, which he had not found very profitable, and devoted 
himself to the culture of his plantation. His home was a very 
happy one. Mrs. Jackson was an excellent manager, and one 
of the most cheerful and entertaining of companions. She had 
a strong mind, much intelligence, but very little culture. They 
had no children, but adopted one of the twin sons, but a few 
days old, of one of Mrs. Jackson’s sisters. This boy became the 
pride, the joy, the hope, of the general’s life. Soon after, he re¬ 
ceived another little nephew into his family, whom he nurtured 
and educated. It is said (and the assertion is well substantiated) 
that this wonderfully irascible man was never impatient even 
with -wife, children, or servants. 

One day, when travelling alone, he met two burly wagoners, 
who ordered him to get out of his carriage, and dance for them. 
Feigning simplicity, he said that he could not dance without his 
slippers, which were in his trunk. They told him to get them. 
Opening his trunk, he took out his pistols; and then, with eyes 
glaring like fireballs, and with such oaths as few men ever heard 
before, approached them, saying, — 

Now, you infernal villains, you shall dance for me ! Dance, 
dance I ” There wa^ death in his eye and in his tone. They 
danced until the general was satisfied, and he then dismissed them 
with a moral lecture which they probably never forgot. 

When the war of 1812 with Great Britain commenced, Madison 
occupied the presidential chair. Aaron Burr sent word to the 
President that there was an unknown man in the West, Andrew 
Jackson, who would do credit to a commission if one were con¬ 
ferred upon him. Just at that time, Gen. Jackson offered his 
services and those of twenty-five hundred volunteers. His offer 
was accepted, and the troops were assembled at Nashville. 


224 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


As the British were hourly expected to make an attach upon New 
Orleans, where Gen. Wilkinson was in command, he was ordered 
to descend the river with fifteen hundred troops to the aid of 
Wilkinson. As Gen. Jackson hated the commandant at New 
Orleans, and expected a ‘‘ difficulty,” he took with him his duel¬ 
ling pistols and powder. 

The expedition reached Natchez; and after a delay of several 
weeks there, without accomplishing any thing, the men were 
ordered back to their homes. But the energy Gen. Jackson had 
displayed, and his entire devotion to the comfort of his soldiers, 
won him golden opinions; and he became the most popular man 
in the State. It was in this expedition that his toughness gave 
him the nickname of “ Old Hickory.” 

A young friend of Gen. Jackson, by the name of William 
Carroll, challenged Jesse Benton, a younger brother of Col. 
Thomas H. Benton, to a. duel. * Andrew Jackson, then forty-six 
years of age, somewhat reluctantly acted as second to Carroll. 
Both parties were wounded, young Benton quite severely. This 
roused the indignation of Col. Thomas H. Benton, who had con¬ 
ferred some signal favors upon Gen. Jackson; and, in his rage, he 
made such remarks as passionate men were accustomed to 
make in those days and in that region. The general, hearing 
of these remarks, swore by the Eternal ” that he would horsewhip 
Benton. Learning that Benton was in Nashville, he rode into 
the city, and with pistols in his pocket, a small sword at his side, 
and a whip in his hand, went to the City Hotel, accompanied by 
a friend. Col. Benton was at the front-door, with his brother 
Jesse near. Jackson advanced upon him with his whip, exclaim¬ 
ing, — 

“ Now, you d-d rascal, I am going to punish you I Defend 

yourself I ” 

Benton clapped his hand into his breast-pocket as if feeling* 
for a pistol. Jackson instantly drew a pistol, and presented it at 
the breast of his antagonist. Benton stepped back through the 
hall towards the door at the other end, Jackson following closely. 
Jesse Benton, seeing his brother’s peril, fired at Jackson. The 
pistol was loaded with two balls and a slug. The slug struck his 
left shoulder, shattering it horribly. The ball buried itself in his 
arm, where it remained for twenty years. Jackson fell heavily 
and helplessly to the floor, bleeding pi’ofusely. His friend, Col. 



ANDREW JACKSON, 


225 


Coffee, rushed upon Col. Benton, fired his pistol, and missed. He 
then clubbed his pistol, and was just about to strike the colonel 
over the head, when Benton tripped, and fell back over some 
stairs behind him which he had not observed, and rolled to the 
bottom. Coffee now turned his attention to his wounded friend. 
But another actor immediately appeared. Stokely Hays, a nephew 
of Gen. Jackson, and a man of gigantic strength and stature, 
rushed upon Jesse Benton. With gleaming knives, they had a 
rough-and-tumble fight. Blood flowed freely. Bystanders inter¬ 
fered, and separated them. 

Faint with loss of blood, Jackson was carried to the Nashville 
Inn, a short distance ; and the Bentons remained in possession of 
the field. Jackson’s wounds were very severe. While he was 
lingering, haggard and wan, upon a bed of suffering, news came 
that the Indians, who had combined under Tecumseh, from Florida 
to the Lakes, to exterminate the white settlers, were committing the 
most awful ravages. Decisive action became necessary. Gqn. 
Jackson, with his fractured bones just beginning to heal, his arm 
in a sling, and unable to mount his horse without assistance, gave 
his amazing energies to the raising of an army to rendezvous at 
Fayetteville, on the borders of Alabama, on the 4th of October, 
1818. 

The varied incidents of the war which ensued cannot here bo 
described. On the bloody field of Talluschatches, where the whole 
of a band of one hundred and eighty Indian warriors met with 
their death, an Indian babe was found clinging to the bosom 
of its dead mother. Jackson urged some of the Indian women, 
who were captives, to give it nourishment. They refused, saying, 
“ All his relations are dead: kill him too.” The general took the 
child to his own tent, nursed it with sugar and water, sent it to 
the Hermitage, and brought the child up as a son, giving him the 
name of Lincoyer. He grew up a finely formed young man, but 
died of consumption at the age of seventeen. 

A narrative of the heroism of the troops, their sufferings and 
their achievements, would fill pages. On one occasion, a starving 
soldier approached the general, begging for food. “ I will divide 
with you my own food,” said he, and, drawing a few acorns from 
his pocket, presented them to the man, saying, ‘‘ This is all the faro 
I have.” Mutinies arose in the camp, one after another, which 
Gen. Jackson, almost by his own single energies, vanquished. 

29 



226 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


The discouragement and embarrassments he encountered weio 
terrible. In the severe chastisement of the Indians at Talladega; 
in the struggle with his own starving troops at Fort Strother ; in 
his twelve-days’ excursion, culminating in the routing of the 
Indians at Enotochopco, — there was as high a display of energy 
and sagacity as has, perhaps, ever been recorded. 

The Indians were numerous and desperate. The battles were 
fierce and bloody. The settlers in that remote wilderness were 
entirely dependent upon their crops for the support of their families. 
Absence in seedtime or harvest exposed wives and children to 
starvation. It was exceedingly difficult to hire men even for six 
months’ military service. Two hundred young men volunteered 
for a three-months’ campaign. The contract was written and signed. 
Gen. Roberts had enlisted these men. He marched them to within 
a short distance of Fort Strother, and then halted them, and rode 
forward to get a promise from Gen. Jackson to receive them for 
the short service for which they had enlisted. 

The wrath of the general was roused. He would not hear of 
their serving for less than six months. The men heard of it, and 
immediately started for their homes. Awful were the oaths of the 
enraged general. Every available man was sent after them to arrest 
them as deserters. He needed the men so much, that, while he swore 
that he would shoot them as deserters if they did not return, he 
assured them that they should be pardoned, and received into 
service on the terms upon which they had enlisted, if they would 
come back. 

Thus assured, they again rendezvoused at Fayetteville. Here 
a man who was anxious to retire engaged another young man, 
not quite eighteen years of age, John Wood, to serve as his sub¬ 
stitute. John the more readily assented to this as he had an 
elder brother in the company. They were now marched to Fort 
Strother. 

A few days after this, on a cold, rainy morning in February, 
John Wood was on guard. Wet, chilled, and hungry, he obtained 
permission to go to his tent to get a blanket. His comrades had 
left his breakfast for him ; and, while he was hastily eating it, an 
officer came along, and reproved him sharply for the bones and 
other litter which were strewn about. John went on eating. The 
officer, in the coarse, insulting language of the camp, ordered him 
to pick up the bones. John replied, probably not very respect-. 


ANDREW JACKSON. 


227 


fully, that he was on guard, and had permission to leave his post 
but for a few moments, to which he must immediately return. A 
loud altercation ensued. The officer ordered the bystanders to 
arrest Wood. He seized his gun, and swore that he would shoot 
the first man who should attempt to touch him. 

Gen. Jackson heard that a man was mutinying, and came rush¬ 
ing from his tent like an enraged maniac. Wood was put in 
irons. Gen. Jackson was about to start upon a very important 
enterprise. There was but little subordination in the army. He 
thought it time to make an example. He had been struggling 
against mutiny for three months, and hie patience was exhausted. 
John, sitting upon a log in the forest, a mere boy, knowing nothing 
of military life, having been but a month in service, was con¬ 
demned to die. Gen. Jackson was urged to pardon him, or, at 
least, to mitigate the sentence, in consideration of his youth, and 
of his aged parents, of whom he was the main-stay. The general 
replied, that he was sorry for his parents; but the boy was a muti¬ 
neer, and must die. 

The whole army was drawn up to witness the execution. A 
general order was read, in which it was asserted that Wood had 
been a deserter as well as a mutineer. A deserter he certainly 
was not; for he did not join the company until after the flight, and 
its rendezvous at Fayetteville. No one has ever read this story 
without a deep feeling of sympathy for John Wood. 

The Creek Indians had established a strong fort on one of the 
bends of the Tallapoosa River, near the centre of Alabama, about 
fifty miles below Fort Strother. With an army of two thousand 
men, Gen. Jackson traversed the pathless wilderness in a march 
of eleven days. He reached their fort, called Tohopeka, or Horse¬ 
shoe, on the 27th of March, 1814. The bend of the river enclosed 
nearly one hundred acres of tangled forest and wild ravine. 
Across the narrow neck, the Indians had constructed a for¬ 
midable breastwork of logs and brush. Here nine hundred war- 
liors, with an ample supply of arms and ammunition, were 
assembled. 

The fort was stormed. The fight was utterly desperate. Not 
an Indian would accept of quarter. When bleeding and dying, 
they would fight those who endeavored to spare their lives. 
From ten in the morning until dark, the battle raged. The car¬ 
nage was awful and revolting. Some tlirew themselves into the 


228 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


river; but the unerring bullet struck their heads as they swam. 
Nearly every one of the nine hundred warriors was killed. A 
few probably, in the night, swam the river, and escaped. This 
ended the war. The power of the Creeks was broken forever. 
This bold plunge into the wilderness, with its terrific slaughter, 
so appalled the savages, that the haggard remnants of the bands 
came to the camp, begging for peace. 

Gen. Jackson returned a conqueror. No one but those who 
know from experience what are the horrors of Indian warfare — 
the midnight yell of the savage, the torch, the tomahawk, the 
carnage, the torture — can appreciate the gratitude with which 
this deliverer of the frontiers was received as he journeyed 
homewards. A cavalcade of the citizens of Nashville flocked to 
meet him. With loudest acclaim, they conducted him to the 
court-house. All past enmities were forgotten, and every tongue 
spoke his praise. 

This closing of the Creek War enabled us to concentrate our 
militia upon the British, who were the allies of the Indians. No 
man of less resolute will than Gen. Jackson could have conducted 
this Indian campaign to so successful an issue. Immediately, on 
the 31st of May, Jackson was appointed major-general in the 
army of the United States. This gave him an income of between 
six and seven thousand dollars a year, and made him, for those 
times, a rich man. Through the whole Indian campaign, he suf¬ 
fered terribly from the wounds and debility occasioned by his 
senseless feud with Col. Benton. He was pale and haggard and 
pain-worn, often enduring the extreme of agony. Not many men, 
suffering as he did, would have been out of the sick-chamber. 
As one of the results of the Creek War, the Creeks were com¬ 
pelled to cede to the United-States Government nearly the whole 
of the territory now embraced in the State of Alabama. 

Napoleon had now fallen; the Bourbons were restored; and the 
English, flushed with victory, with a splendid army, and a still 
more splendid navy of more than a thousand vessels, were free to 
concentrate all their energies against this infant republic. The 
Federalists were glad that Napoleon was overthrown ; the Bepub- 
licans generally mourned. Andrew Jackson was a Republican, 
and a great admirer of Napoleon. 

Immediately upon the fall of Napoleon, the British cabinet de- 
•"ided to gather up its strength to strike America a crushing 


ANDREW JACKSON. 


229 


blow. It was their plan to take New Orleans, lay all our seaport 
towns in ashes, annihilate our navy, and, by holding the Atlantic, 
the Mississippi, and the Lakes, to imprison us in our forests. The 
British were at Pensacola and Appalachicola, dispensing arms to 
the Indians in that region, and preparing for their grand naval 
and land expedition to New Orleans. Florida then belonged to 
Spain, an ally of England; and the British cabinet doubted not its 
ability to wrest from us Louisiana, which we had purchased of 
France. Most of the hostile Indians, flying from the tremendous 
blows which Gen. Jackson had dealt out to them, had also taken 
refuge inr Florida. Jackson, far away in the wilderness, was left 
to act almost without instructions. He decided to take the 
responsibility, and assumed the independence of a sovereign. 

liate in August, with an army of two thousand men, on a rush¬ 
ing march, Gen. Jackson traversed the wilderness from which he 
had driven out the Creeks, and reached Mobile, then an insignifi¬ 
cant hamlet of one hundred and fifty houses, and took possession 
of a dilapidated rampart, called Fort Bowyer, at Mobile Point. A 
British fleet came from Pensacola, landed a force upon the beach, 
anchored near the little fort, and from both ship and shore com¬ 
menced a furious assault. The battle was long and doubtful. At 
length, one of the ships was blown up, and the rest of the force 
retired in utter discomfiture. 

Tlie whole South and West were fully aroused to meet and 
repel the foe. By the 1st of November, Gen. Jackson had in 
Mobile an army of four thousand men. His wrath against the 
Spaniards had no limits; and he resolved to march upon Pensa¬ 
cola, where the Spaniards were sheltering our foes, and, as he 
expressed it, rout out the English.’’ Regardless of the rights 
of Spain, he advanced upon Pensacola, stormed the town, took 
possession of every fort, and drove the British fleet out to sea. 
But where had the fleet gone? This question Gen. Jackson 
asked with great anxiety. Fearing for Mobile, he put his force 
in rapid motion to return. On the 3d of November, he left Mo¬ 
bile, and on the 11th got back again, having marched nearly two 
hundred miles, and achieved a great victory. Many, at that 
time, condemned him for the invasion of Florida; but the final 
verdict has been clearly in his favor. 

Garrisoning Mobile, he moved his troops to New Orleans, a dis¬ 
tance of a hundred and seventy miles. Gen. Jackson himself 


230 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


was SO feeble, that he could ride but seventeen miles a day. He 
reached New Orleans the 1st of December. New Orleans con¬ 
tained then twenty thousand inhabitants. There was plunder 
enough of cotton and sugar stored in the city to make the expe¬ 
dition of the British, if successful, very profitable. The following 
description has been given of Gen. Jackson, as, accompanied by 
his staff alone, he entered the city : — 

The chief of the party, which was composed of five or six 
persons, was a tall, gaunt man, of very erect carriage, with % 
countenance full of stern decision and fearless energy, but fur¬ 
rowed with care and anxiety. His complexion was sallow and 
unhealthy, his hair was iron gray, and his body thin and ema¬ 
ciated, like that of one who had just recovered from a lingering 
and painful sickness. But the fierce glare of his bright and 
hawk-like eye betrayed a soul and spirit which triumphed over 
all the infirmities of the body. His dress was simple, and nearly 
threadbare. A small leather cap protected his head, and a short 
Spanish blue cloak his body; whilst his feet and legs were in¬ 
cased in high dragoon-boots, long ignorant of polish or blacking, 
which reached to the knees. In age, he appeared to have passed 
about forty-five winters.” 

In some mysterious way, Gen. Jackson had acquired the man¬ 
ners of the most polished and accomplished gentleman. There 
was something in his presence which charmed every one, in the 
saloon as well as in the camp. Always self-possessed, there were 
dignity and courtliness, united with affability, in his address, 
which would have rendered him conspicuous as a gentleman, even 
in the court of Louis XIY. 

Every available man in New Orleans was immediately brought 
into service. The battle of New Orleans, which soon ensued, was, 
in reality, a very arduous campaign. A British fleet of fifty ships, 
many of them of the first class, and which had obtained renown 
in the naval conflicts of Trafalgar and the Nile, was assembled in 
a spacious bay on the western end of the Island of Jamaica. 
This fleet, which carried a thousand cannon, was manned by nearly 
nine thousand soldiers and marines, and transported a land force 
of ten thousand veteran soldiers, fresh from the wars of Europe, 
and flushed with victory over Napoleon. The fleet entered Lake 
Borgne. It was the 10th of December, 1814. There were five 
small cutters in the lake, which were soon overpowered by the 


ANDREW JACKSON. 


231 


immense force of the foe. The fleet now ran along to the western 
extremity of the lake, and landed the troops at the mouth of the 
Bayou Bienvenue. The shallow water would not allow the large 
ships to approach near the land; but sixteen hundred troops were 
speedily put on shore by the boats but eight miles from New 
Orleans, Unaware how feeble the force Gen. Jackson had at his 
disposal, they did not deem it prudent to move upon the city 
until they had greatly increased their numbers. This delay 
probably saved New Orleans. 

The British troops commenced landing on the 16th. The pro¬ 
cess was very slow and tedious; and it was not until the 22d that 
they were prepared to move forward. Thus far, it had been 
uncertain by what direction they would advance upon the city. 
As soon as Gen. Jackson heard of their line of approach, he ad¬ 
vanced to meet them. He had placed the city under martial law. 
Every available man, horse, mule, ox, had been called into requi¬ 
sition. Two armed schooners were stationed in the river. Fort 
St. Philip was strengthened, to prevent the British fleet, which 
was impelled by wind alone, from ascending the river. 

At two o’clock in the afternoon of the 23d, Gen. Jackson 
learned that the foe, marching from Lake Borgne, were within 
nine miles of the city. He immediately collected his motley force 
of young farmers and mechanics, about two thousand in number, 
and marched to meet them. He fell upon them impetuously in a 
night attack, checked their progress, and drove them ba(‘,k 
towards their landing-place. The British, surprised by the fury 
of the assault, waited for re-enforcements, which came up in large 
numbers during the night. 

In the mean time, Gen. Jackson, with that indomitable energy, 
that fiery impetuosity, in which he surpassed all living men, fell 
back with his men to a point about four miles down the river from 
New Orleans, and commenced cutting a ditch, and throwing up a 
Lne of breastworks from the river across the plain, which was 
about a mile in width, to the impassable swamp. Every man and 
boy in the city was put to the work. The general was every¬ 
where. His zeal inspired all. He seemed neither to eat nor 
sleep. It is said, that, for five days and four nights, he was with¬ 
out sleep. Two precious days the British allowed him, while they 
were laboriously bringing up their re-enforcements of men, ammu¬ 
nition, provisions, and guns. 


232 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


Gen. Jackson had two sloops of war in the river, which annoyed 
the foe terribly. It is but a narrow strip of land which lines the 
turbid Mississippi. It was only along this strip that the foe could 
advance. They were on the eastern banks, and were exposed 
unsheltered to the fire of these vessels. The levee, rising some 
fifteen feet from the plain, alone prevented the inundation of the 
ground where the British forces were collecting. On their right, 
as they looked up the stream, the swamp shut them in ; while the 
swift, turbid, deep river was on their left. On the 25th, Sir E. 
Packenham reached the British camp, bringing with him a power¬ 
ful battery. He planted it near the levee in the night, opened 
fire in the morning, blew one of the vessels into the air, and drove 
the other out of range of his guns. He was the nephew of the 
Duke of Wellington. But Andrew Jackson was in spirit the duke 
himself, expanded and intensified. 

Packenham, on the 28th, pushed his veteran battalions forward 
on a reconnoissance, and to sweep, if possible, like a Mississippi 
flood, over Gen. Jackson^s frail and unfinished breastwork. In 
the construction of his ditch and earthworks, he could scoop up 
the earth only to the depth of three feet before he came to the 
water. It was a brilliant morning, the 28th of December. Jackson, 
with an old borrowed telescope in his hand, was on the watch. 
The solid columns of red-coats came on, in military array as beau¬ 
tiful as awe-inspiring. The artillery led, heralding the advance 
with a shower of Congreve-rockets, round shot, and shell. 
The muskets of the infantry flashed like mirrors in the light of 
the morning sun. The Britons were in high glee. It was absurd 
to suppose that a few thousand raw militia could resist the vete¬ 
rans who had conquered the armies of Napoleon. 

Gen. Jackson had not quite three thousand men behind his 
breastwork; but every one had imbibed the spirit of his chieftain. 
There were eight thousand veteran soldiers marching upon them. 
For a few hours, there were the tumult, the horror, the carnage, of 
a battle; and then the British host seemed to have melted away. 
Panting, bleeding, with shattered ranks, leaving their dead behind 
them, again they retreated. 

Another week passed away. Both parties exerted almost super¬ 
human energy in preparing for the renewal of the strife. Gen. 
Jackson had made his arrangements, if defeated, to retire to the 
city, fire it, and, amidst its flames, to fight with desperation; slowly 




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ANDREW JACKSON. 


233 


falling back to some strong position on the river-banks, and, by 
cutting off the supplies of the foe, compel him to depart. 

The British now decided to advance upon the American lines 
by regular approaches. For three days, they remained in their 
encampment two miles below our breastworks, but in open view. 
They brought from their ships heavy cannon, and other needful 
supplies. Thus passed the three last days of the year. The banks 
of the river were lined with sentinels, and watch-boats patroled 
the majestic stream. The British had brought forward twenty 
eighteen-pounders, and ten twenty-fours. 

The night of the 31st of December was very dark. In its gloom, 
one-half of the British army advanced within three hundred yards 
of our front, and, under cover of a heavy cannonade on their right, 
(!ommenced throwing up a chain of works. The next morning 
was Sunday, the first day of the new year. It dawned through a 
fog so dense, that no man could be seen at a distance of twenty 
yards. Suddenly at ten o’clock, like the uprolling of a curtain at a 
theatre, the fog lifted; and the whole plain, glittering with all 
the pageantry of war, was open to view. Instantly the British 
batteries commenced their fire upon the American lines. 

Within ten minutes, one hundred balls struck the house which 
Gen. Jackson had occupied as his headquarters. The reply from 
the American lines was prompt, and such a storm of war was opened 
as never before had been witnessed upon this continent. Fifty 
pieces of cannon were discharged, each from two to three times a 
minute; and, as fhere was not a breath of air, the plain was soon 
so covered with smoke, that nothing could be seen but an im¬ 
penetrable cloud, blazing and bellowing with volcanic flash and 
roar. After an hour and a half of such work, the guns became so 
hot, that they could no longer be loaded. 

As the smoke rolled away, the British batteries were seen total¬ 
ly destroyed: the soldiers who had manned them were running 
to the rear; and the British army, which had been drawn up to 
advance upon our works, were hiding behind the ramparts which 
they had thrown up. Again the British were defeated. Annoyed 
by the terrible fire which was opened upon them by our artillerists 
and sharpshooters, they were compelled to fall back to their former 
position. This was the third battle, not including the gunboat 
fight, of the campaign. It was on this occasion only that cotton* 
bales were used. They were found valueless, and were thrown 


234 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


aside, as the cannon-balls knocked them about, or set them oii 
fire. 

What the enemy would next attempt was now the great ques¬ 
tion. Four days passed away with no decisive movements on 
either side. The British were, however, evidently preparing for 
another advance. No words can describe the efforts made by our 
army to prepare for the next movement of the foe, whatever it 
might be. On Friday, the 6th, Gen. Jackson became assured that 
the enemy was preparing to attack him on both sides of the river. 

We cannot here describe the preparations made for the attack 
and for the repulse. At half an hour before dawn, Sunday morning, 
Jan. 8, 1815, a rocket from the hostile lines gave the signal 
for the attack. In two solid columns, the British advanced upon 
our ramparts, which were bristling with infantry and artillery, and 
behind which Gen. Jackson had now collected an army of about 
four thousand men, all inspired’with the zeal of their commander. 
On both sides of the river, the blood-red billows of battle rolled 
and broke. 

Our men were well protected. With bare bosoms, the British 
marched upon the embankment, from which there was poured 
forth an incessant storm of bullets, balls, and shells, which no flesh 
and blood could stand. It was one of the most awful scenes of 
slaughter which was ever witnessed. Every bullet accomplished 
its mission, spending its force in the bodies of those who were in¬ 
sanely driven forward to inevitable death. Two hundred men 
were cut down by one discharge of a thirty-two-pounder, loaded 
to the muzzle with musket-balls, and poured into the head of a 
column at the distance of but a few yards. Regiments vanished, 
a British officer said, “ as if the earth had opened, and swallowed 
them up.” The American line looked like a row of fiery furnaces. 
Gen. Jackson walked slowly along his ranks, cheering his men, and 
saying,— 

“ Stand to your guns I Don’t waste your ammunition ! See that 
every shot tells ! Let us finish the business to-day I ” 

Two hours passed, and the work was done, — effectually done. 
As the smoke lifted, the whole proud array had disappeared. The 
ground was so covered with the dying and the dead, that, for a 
quarter of a mile in front, one might walk upon their bodies ; and, 
far away in the distance, the retreating lines of the foe were to be 
seen. On both sides of the river, the enemy was repulsed. 


ANDREW JACKSON. 


235 


The British had about nine thousand in the engagement^ and 
we but about four thousand. Their loss in killed and wounded 
was two thousand six hundred, while ours was but thirteen. 
Thus ended the great battle of New Orleans. For ten days after 
the battle, the British remained in their encampment, continually 
annoyed by our artillerists and sharpshooters, until at length, 
through great difficulties, they effected their escape to their ships. 

In those days, intelligence travelled so slowly, that it was not 
until the 4th of February that tidings of the victory reached 
Washington. The whole country blazed with illuminations, and 
rang with rejoicings. Ten days after this, news of the Treaty of 
Ghent was received, which treaty had been signed before the 
bloody battle of New Orleans took place. Gen. Jackson was not 
a man of tender sympathies. Inexorable in discipline, soon after 
this, on the 21st, at Mobile, he ordered six militia-men to be 
shot for mutiny. It is a sad story. They were honest, well-mean¬ 
ing men, who probably had no intention of doing wrong. Some of 
them were true Christians, and they supposed that their term of 
service had really expired. No one can read the story of their 
death, without anguish; and it required all the glory of the victory 
at New Orleans to obliterate the memory of the execution at 
Mobile. 

Rumors of the Treaty of Ghent reached New Orleans in March, 
and were published by one of the New-Orleans editors. Gen. Jack- 
son, deeming such an announcement injudicious, ordered the editor 
to retract. He refused, and was arrested. Judge Hall, to vindi¬ 
cate the supremacy of the civil authority, issued a writ of habeas 
corpus. The general arrested the judge, and sent him out of his 
lines. Soon intelligence of peace was received. The judge re¬ 
turned, and, by virtue of his office, fined the general a thousand 
dollars. The people of New Orleans, adoring their deliverer, 
were indignant, and wished to pay the fine for him. The general 
refused their offer, and paid it himself. 

He now returned to Nashville, and honors were poured in upon 
him without number. He still retained his command of the south¬ 
ern division of the army. The Seminole Indians in Florida were 
committing outrages upon our frontiers. Gen. Jackson gathered 
an army of over two thousand men, and, regardless of treaties, 
marched into Florida, punished the Indians severely, attacked a 
Spanish post, shot by court-martial a Scotchman, and hung an 


236 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


Englishman accused of inciting the Indians to insurrection. Hia 
energy, and disregard of treaties and the forms of law, were de¬ 
nounced by one party, and commended by another. He was, how¬ 
ever, sustained by Congress and the President; and, after the pur¬ 
chase of Florida from Spain, Gen. Jackson was appointed governor 
of the newly acquired territory. The powers with which he was 
invested were so great, that he said, upon assuming the com¬ 
mand, — 

‘‘ I am clothed with powers that no one under a republic ought 
to possess, and which, I trust, will never again be given to any 
man.’’ 

For some reason, he soon became tired of his office, and, resigning 
it, again retired to his farm and his extremely humble home in Ten¬ 
nessee. His name soon began to be brought forward as that of a can¬ 
didate for the presidency of the United States. In the autumn of 
1823, he was elected, by the Tennessee Legislature, United-States 
senator. In the stormy electoral canvass of 1824, which resulted in 
the choice of John Quincy Adams by the House of Representatives, 
Gen. Jackson received a larger number of electoral votes than 
either of his competitors. The Democratic party now with great 
unanimity fixed upon him to succeed Mr. Adams. In the campaign 
of 1828, he was triumphantly elected President of the United States. 
In 1829, just before he assumed the reins of government, he met 
with the most terrible affliction of his life in the death of his wife, 
whom he had loved with devotion which has perhaps never been 
surpassed. From the shock of her death he never recovered. 

He ever afterwards appeared like a changed man. He became 
subdued in spirit, and, except when his terrible temper had been 
greatly aroused, seldom used profane language. It is said that 
ev.ery night afterwards, until his own death, he read a prayer from 
his wife’s prayer-book, with her miniature likeness before him. With 
frankness characteristic of his nature, he expressed his deep con¬ 
viction of the necessity of vital godliness, and his hope and inten¬ 
tion to become a Christian before he should die. 

His administration was one of the most memorable in the annals 
of our country; applauded by one party, condemned by the other. 
No man had more bitter enemies or warmer friends. It is, how¬ 
ever, undeniable, that many of the acts of his administration, which 
were at the time most unsparingly denounced, are now generally 
commended. Every year the judgment of the whole community 


ANDREW JACKSON. 


237 


is settling into the conviction, that, with all his glaring faults of 
character, he was a true patriot, honestly seeking the good of his 
country. With the masses of the people, Andrew Jackson was the . 
most popular president, with possibly the exceptions of Washington 
and Lincoln, who ever occupied the presidential chair. At the 
expiration of his two terms of office, he retired, in 1837, to the 
Hermitage, resigning his office at Washington to his warm friend 
and able supporter, Martin Van Buren. 

The remains of his much-loved wife were reposing in the hum¬ 
ble graveyard near his house. The evening of his stormy life had 
come. Hours of reflection were forced upon him. The sublimities 
of the world beyond the grave had ever overawed his soul. There 
was a series of religious meetings of several days^ continuance. 
Gen. Jackson devoutly attended them all. The last* sermon was 
on Saturday afternoon, upon God’s interposition among the affairs 
of men. Gen. Jackson went home, intensely impressed with a 
sense of ingratitude and sin. He passed the night walking the 
floor of his chamber in anguish and in prayer. In the morning, he 
announced to his family his full conviction that he had repented 
of his sins, and, through faith in Christ, had obtained forgiveness. 
That day the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper was to be adminis¬ 
tered. With his customary decision of character, he sent for the 
elders of the church, informed them of the new life upon whicli he 
believed he had entered, and expressed the desire that very day 
to make a profession of his faith in Christ, and to partake of the 
emblems of his body broken for us, and his blood shed for our sins. 
It was a solemn scene which was that morning witnessed in that 
rural church, almost buried in the forests of Tennessee. The war¬ 
worn veteran, with bronzed face and frosted hair, knelt with the 
humility of a little child before the altar, in acceptance of pardon 
through an atoning Saviour, and was baptized in the name of 
the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. The prayers 
of his Christian mother were now answered. 

His subsequent life was that of the Christian who is conscious 
that his sins are forgiven, but who is conscious, also, that he has 
yet many remaining infirmities. Family prayer was immediately 
established in his dwelling, which Gen. Jackson himself conducted, 
however numerous might be his guests. Scott’s Family Bible he 
read through twice before he died. The household servants were' 
all called in to partake in the devotions. At one of the meetings 
of the church, Gen. Jackson was nominated a “ruling elder.” 


238 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


No,’’ he replied. The Bible says, ^ Be not hasty in the laying 
on of hands.’ I am too young in the church for such an office. 
My countrymen have given me high honors; but I should esteem 
the office of ruling elder in the Church of Christ a far higher honor 
than any I have received.” 

His sufferings from sickness during the last years of his life 
were dreadful; but he bore them with the greatest fortitude, never 
uttering a complaining word. Still, at times, the gleams of his 
impetuous soul would flash forth. “ What would you have done 
with Calhoun and the other nulliflers, if they had kept on ? ” asked 
Dr. Edgar one day. 

The old general half rose from his J3ed, and with flashing eye, 
and great vehemence of manner, said, I would have hung them, 
sir, as high as Haman. They should have been a terror to traitors 
for all time ; and posterity would have pronounced it the best act 
of my life.” 

On Sunday, May 24, 1845, he partook of the communion. 
“ Death,” said he, has no terrors for me. When I have suffered 
sufficiently, the Lord will take me to himself; but what are my 
sufferings compared with those of the blessed Saviour who died on 
the accursed tree for me ? Mine are nothing.” 

Still he lingered in the extreme of weakness and of suffer¬ 
ing. On Sunday morning, June the 8th, it was seen that his last 
hour had conae. He assembled all his family around him, and, in 
the most affecting manner, took leave of each one. He then,” 
writes one who was present, “ delivered one of the most impres¬ 
sive lectures on the subject of religion that I have ever heard. 
He spoke for nearly half an hour, and apparently with the power 
of inspiration.” The servants had all been called in. In conclu¬ 
sion, he said, “ My dear children and friends and servants, I hope, 
and trust to meet you all in heaven, both white and black.” The 
last words he repeated, turning his eyes tenderly towards the 
slaves clustered around. For some time, he remained apparently 
in a state of stupor. At length, his adopted son took his hand, 
and said, “ Father, do you know me ? ” 

“Yes,” he replied, “I know you. Where is my daughter, and 
Marian ? God will take care of you for me. I am my God’s. I 
belong to him. I go but a short time before you; and I want to 
meet you all, white and black, in heaven.” 

The slaves, men, women, and children, who crowded the piazza, 


ANDREW JACKSON. 


239 


looking in at the windows, sobbed loudly. Turning to them, their 
dying master said, — 

What is the matter with my dear children? Have I alarmed . 
you ? Oh ! do not cry, and we will all meet in heaven.’^ 

Soon after this, he suddenly, and without a struggle, ceased to 
breathe. Two days after, he was placed in a grave by the side 
of his wife. He had often said, Heaven will be nc heaven to 
me if I do not meet my wife there.” For miles around, the people 
flocked to the burial. It was estimated that three thousand were 
assembled upon the lawn in front of the house. A favorite psalm 
of the departed was sung, — 

“ Why should we start, and fear to die ? 

What timorous worms we mortals are! ” 

A sermon was preached from the text, ‘‘ These are they which 
came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and 
made them white in the blood of the Lamb.” 

The brief sketch which we have given of this remarkable man 
must leave the impression upon every mind that he possessed 
great virtues and great defects. He was the first president 
America had chosen who was not a man of intelligence, of culture, 
and of experienced statesmanship. Though intense in his preju¬ 
dices, and slow to listen to the voice of reason, and though many 
of his actions were fearfully unjust, few will now deny that he 
was honest in his purposes, and sincerely patriotic. 

Mr. Parton, in his admirable Life of Jackson, says very truly, 

“ His ignorance of law, history, politics, science, — of every thing 
which he who governs a country ought to know, — was extreme. 
Mr. Trist remembers hearing a member of the general’s family 
say that Gen. Jackson did not believe the world was round. 
His ignorance was as a wall round about him, high and impene¬ 
trable. He was imprisoned in his ignorance, and sometimes raged 
around his little dim enclosure like a tiger in his den.” It is said, 
that, when he was elected President of the United States, he had 
never read a book through except The Yicar of Wakefield.” The 
honorary degree of LL.D. was conferred upon him in 1833 by 
Harvard University. 

Chief Justice Taney, at the time of his death, paid the following 
beautiful tribute to his memory: — 


240 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


The whole civilized world already knows how bountifully he 
was endowed by Providence with those high gifts which qualified 
him to lead, both as a soldier and as a statesman. But those only 
who were around him in hours of anxious deliberation, when great 
and mighty interests were at stake, and who were also with him 
in the retired scenes of domestic life, in the midst of his family 
and friends, can fully appreciate his innate love of justice, his 
hatred of oppression in every shape it could assume, his magna¬ 
nimity, his entire freedom from any feeling of personal hostility to 
his political opponents, and his constant and unvarying kindness 
and gentleness to his friends.^^ 


CHAPTER VITI. 


MARTIN VAN BUREN. 


Birth and Childhood. — Studies Law. — Talents and Industry. — Political Principles. — 
Success as a Lawyer and Politician. — Aids in the Election of Jackson. — Secretary of 
State*—Mrs. Eaton. — Resigns his Secretaryship. — Minister to England. — Rejected by 
the Senate. — Attains the Vice-Presidency. — Patronage of Gen. Jackson. — Chosen 
President. — Retirement and Declining Years. 

There is but little in the life of Martin Van Buren of romantic 
interest. He fought no battles, engaged in no wild adventures. 



hesidknck ck martin van buren. 


Though his life was stormy in political and intellectual conflicts, 
and he gained many signal victories, his days passed uneventful 
in those incidents which give zest to biography. His ancestors, 

31 241 



















242 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


as his name indicates, were of Dutch origin, and were f,mong the 
earliest emigrants from Holland to the banks of the Hudson. His 
father was a farmer, residing in the old town of Kinderhook. His 
mother, also of Dutch lineage, was a woman of superior intelli¬ 
gence and of exemplary piety. Martin, their eldest son, was born 
on the 5th of December, 1782. 

He was decidedly a precocious boy, developing unusual activity, 
vigor, and strength of mind. At the age of fourteen, he had 
finished his academic studies in his native village, and commenced 
the study of the law. As he had not a collegiate education, seven 
years of study in a law-office were required of him before Ije could 
be admitted to the bar. Inspired with a lofty ambition, and con¬ 
scious of his powers, he pursued his studies with indefatigable in¬ 
dustry. After spending six years in an office in his native village, 
he went to the city of New York, and prosecuted his studies for 
the seventh year under the tuition of William P. Van Ness, who 
subsequently obtained celebrity as the second of Burr, in his duel 
with Hamilton. 

Martin Van Buren’s father was a tavern-keeper, as well as a 
farmer; a man of imperturbable good nature, and a very decided 
Democrat. His son inherited from him both his bonhomie and 
his political principles. It is said of the son, that, all through 
life, he was ever ready to greet his most bitter opponent with an 
open hand and a friendly smile. Burr was in the most brilliant 
period of his career when the young law-student first made his 
acquaintance. There was a certain congeniality of spirit between 
them which promoted friendship. Martin, then a young man of 
twenty, was very handsome, and was endowed with shining abili¬ 
ties ; and one can apparently see in his after-life the influence 
which the seductive and commanding mind of Burr exerted upon 
his youthful nature. In one respect, indeed, they were different: 
Mr. Van Buren was ever a man of irreproachable morality. 

In 1803, Mr. Van Buren, then twenty-one years of age, com¬ 
menced the practice of law in his native village. The great con¬ 
flict between the Federal and Republican party was then at its 
height. It has often been necessary in the previous sketches to 
allude to the principles which separated the two parties. Wash¬ 
ington and John Adams considered our great danger to consist in 
not giving the Central Government sufficient power: the Demo¬ 
cratic party, on the contrary, under the leadership of Jefferson, 


MARTIN VAN BUREN 


243 


thought that our danger consisted in not giving the State govern* 
inents sufficient power. 

In August, 1786, George Washington wrote to Jay, We have 
probably had too good an opinion of human nature in forming our 
confederacy. I do not conceive that we can long exist as a nation, 
without having centralized somewhere a power which will per¬ 
vade the whole Union in as energetic a manner as the authority 
of the State governments extends over the several States.^’ 

Mr. Van Buren was, from the beginning, a politician. He had, 
perhaps, imbibed that spirit while listening to the many discussions 
which had been carried on in his father’s bar-room. He was in 
cordial sympathy with Jefferson, and earnestly and eloquently 
espoused the cause of State Rights; though, at that time, the Fede¬ 
ral party held the supremacy both in his town and state. Though- 
ever taking an active part in politics, he devoted himself with 
great assiduity to the duties of a village lawyer, and rose rapidly 
in his profession. 

His success and increasing reputation led him, after six years 
of practice, to remove to Hudson, the shire-town of his county. 
Here he spent seven years, constantly gaining strength by 
contending in the courts with some of the ablest men who have 
adorned the bar of his State. The heroic example of John Quincy 
Adams, in retaining in office every faithful man, without regard to 
his political preferences, had been thoroughly repudiated under 
the administration of Gen. Jackson. The unfortunate principle 
was now fully established, that to the victors belong the spoils.” 
Still this principle, to which Mr. Van Buren gave his adherence, 
was not devoid of inconveniences. When, subsequently, he at¬ 
tained power which placed vast patronage in his hands, he was 
heard to say, — 

I prefer an office which has no patronage. When I give a 
man an effice, I offend his disappointed competitors and their 
friends. Nor am I certain of gaining a friend in the man I appoint; 
for, in all probability, he expected something better.” 

Just before leaving Kinderhook for Hudson, Mr. Van Buren 
married a lady alike distinguished for beauty and accomplish¬ 
ments. After twelve short years, she sank into the grave, the 
victim of consumption, leaving her husband and four sons to weep 
over her loss. For twenty-five years, Mr. Van Buren was an 
earnest, successful, assiduous lawyer. The record of those years 


244 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


is barren in items of public interest. The political affairs of the 
State of New York, with which he was constantly intermingled, 
were in an entangled condition which no mortal would now under¬ 
take to unravel. In 1812, when thirty years of age, he was chosen 
to the State Senate, and gave his strenuous support to Mr. Madi¬ 
son’s administration. In 1815, he was appointed Attorney-Gen¬ 
eral ; and, the next year, moved to Albany, the capital of the State. 
Here he cordially supported the administration of Mr. Madison 7 
and yet he voted for Clinton, in opposition to Madison, at his 
second election. Soon after this, we again find him the unrelent¬ 
ing opponent of Clinton. 

While he was acknowledged as one of the most prominent 
leaders of the Democratic party, he had the moral courage to avow 
that true democracy did not require that “ universal suffrage ^ 
which admits the vile, the degraded, the ignorant, to the right of 
governing the State. In true consistency with his democratic 
principles, he contended, that, while the path leading to the privi¬ 
lege of voting should be open to every man without distinction, 
no one should be invested with that sacred prerogative, unless he 
were in some degree qualified for it by intelligence, virtue, and 
some property-interest in the welfare of the State. He contended 
that universal suffrage ” with the motley mass who crowd the 
garrets and cellars of New York would render the elections a 
curse rather than a blessing, and would drive all respectable 
people from the polls. 

Mr. Van Buren cannot, perhaps, be accused of inconsistency in 
his political life; and yet, in endeavoring to trace out his career 
amidst the mazes of party politics, one is reminded of the attempt 
to follow with the eye the mounted aide of a general amidst tL^ 
smoke, tumult, and uproar of the field of battle, now moving in 
one direction, now in another, and yet ever in accordance with 
some well-established plan. 

In 1818, there was a great split in the Democratic party in New 
York; and Mr. Van Buren took the lead in organizing that portion 
of the party called the “Albany Kegency,” which is said to 
have swayed the destinies of the State for a quarter of a century. 
In 1821, he was elected a member of the United-States Senate; 
and, in the same year, he took a seat in the convention to revise 
the constitution of his native State. His course in this conven¬ 
tion secured the approval of men of all parties. No one could 


MARTIN VAN BUREN. 


245 


doubt the singleness of his endeavors to promote the interests of 
all classes in the community. In the Senate of the United States, 
he rose at once to a conspicuous position as an active and useful 
legislator; acting always, however, in sympathy with the Republi¬ 
can, or Democratic party. 

In 1827, John Quincy Adams being then in the presidential 
chair, Mr. Van Buren was re-elected to the Senate, lie had been 
from the beginning a determined opposer of the Administration, 
adopting the ‘^State-Rights’’ view in opposition to*what was 
deemed the Federal proclivities of Mr. Adams. In his letter 
accepting the senatorship, in accordance with his character as a 
“ strict constructionist,” he said, — 

“ It shall be my constant and zealous endeavor* to protect the 
remaining rights reserved to the States by the Federal Constitu¬ 
tion, to restore those of which they have been divested by con¬ 
struction, and to promote the interest and honor of our common 
country.” 

Soon after this, in 1828, he was chosen Governor of the State 
of New York, and accordingly resigned his seat iu the Senate. 
Probably no one in the United States contributed so much to¬ 
wards ejecting John Quincy Adams from the presidential chair, 
and placing in it Andrew Jackson, as did Martin Van Buren. 
Whether entitled to the reputation or not, he. certainly was re¬ 
garded throughout the United States as one of the most skilful, 
sagacious, and cunning of manoeuvrers. It was supposed that no 
one knew so well as he how to touch the secret springs of action; 
how to pull all the wires to put his machinery in motion; and how 
to organize a political army which would, secretly and stealthily, 
accomplish the most gigantic results. By these powers, it is said 
that he outwitted Mr. Adams, Mr. Clay, Mr. Webster, and secured 
results which few thought then could be accomplished. In the 
spring of 1827, Mr. Webster had no doubt that Mr. Adams’s 
administration would be sustained. He wrote to Jeremiah 
Mason, — 

“ A survey of the whole ground leads me to believe con¬ 
fidently in Mr. Adams’s re-election. I set down New England, 
New Jersey, the greater part of Maryland, and perhaps all Dela¬ 
ware, Ohio, Kentucky, Indiana, Missouri, and Louisiana, for him. 
We must then get votes enough in New York to choose him, and, 
[ think, cannot fail of this.” 



246 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


At the appointed hour, Mr. Van Buren opened his masked 
batteries. Mines were sprung all over the United States. The 
battle raged with fury which had scarcely ever been equalled. 
The names of Adams and Jackson rang out upon every breeze: 
each was represented as an angel, each a demon. There was not 
an aristocratic crime which John Quincy Adams had not com¬ 
mitted, no democratic atrocity of which Andrew Jackson had 
not been guilty. 

At lengtji, the electoral votes were cast. Gen. Jackson re¬ 
ceived one hundred and seventy-eight; Mr. Adams, eighty-three. 
Gen. Jackson immediately offered the post of Secretary of State 
to Mr. Van Buren; a tribute, as he said, to his acknowledged 
talents and public services, and in accordance with the wishes 
of the Republican party throughout the Union. 

Scarcely had Gen. Jackson taken his seat in the presidential 
chair, ere there arose one of the most singular difficulties which 
ever distracted the government of a nation. There was a tavern- 
keeper in Washington who had a pretty, vivacious, free-and-easy 
daughter, by the name of Peg O’Neil. Peg may have been a very 
virtuous girl; but she was so intimate with all her father’s guests, 
so unreserved in conversation and manners, and withal so fasci¬ 
nating, that her reputation was not unblemished. Gen. Jackson, 
when senator in 1823, had boarded with the old man, and had 
become acquainted with his pretty daughter. Miss O’Neil, how¬ 
ever, eventually married a purser in the United-States navy, by 
the name of Timberlake. He was, of course, much of the time 
absent from home. Major Jdim H. Eaton, a senator from Tennes¬ 
see, took board at O’Neil’s tavern, and became very much fas-.n- 
nated by the beautiful and witty Mrs. Timberlake. Report was 
busy with the fair fame of them both; and the lady, whether 
justly or unjustly, acquired a very unenviable reputation. Her 
husband one day, in a fit of melancholy, while in the Mediterranean, 
committed suicide; and Major Eaton immediately after married her. 
This event took place soon after Gen. Jackson’s election to the 
presidency. 

Major Eaton was a friend of Gen. Jackson, and was appointed 
by him Secretary of War. The ladies of the other members of 
the cabinet were in great trouble. How could they receive Peg 
O’Neil (now Mrs. Eaton), with her sullied reputation, into their 
social circles ? They conferred together, and resolved that they 


MARTIN VAN BUREN. 


247 


would not do it. Gen. Jackson, mindful of his own past troubles 
in that line, and assuming, with all the force of his impetuous 
nature, that Mrs. Eaton was a traduced and virtuous woman, re¬ 
solved that she should be received as an honored member of the 
republican court. Several of the members of the cabinet were 
married, and these gentlemen sympathized with their wives. The 
cabinet was divided. The conflict roused all the tremendous 
energies of Gen. Jackson’s soul. 

Mr. Yan Buren had neither wife nor daughter. He was one of 
the most pliant, politic, and courteous of men. It was one of the 
fundamental principles of his life, never to give offence, and never 
to appear to notice an injury. He was ever polite, alike to saint 
and sinner, to friend and enemy. Not unconscious of the gratifi¬ 
cation it would afibrd Gen. Jackson, he called upon Mrs. Eaton, 
made parties for her, and treated her with the most marked 
respect. His great abilities had already secured the confidence 
of the President, which this policy tended only to increase. Those 
familiar with the state of things at Washington soon perceived 
that Martin Van Buren had become a great power, and that he 
was on the high road to any degree of elevation he might desire. 

The boundless popularity of Gen. Jackson rendered it probable 
that any one whom he might suggest as his successor would ob¬ 
tain the election. Not one year had elapsed after Gen. Jackson 
had assumed the reins of government, ere he avowed to his friends 
his intention to do every thing in his power to secure the presi¬ 
dency for Mr. Yan Buren. About this time, the President was 
taken very sick. He therefore wrote a letter, carefully worded, 
to be published in case he should die, expressive of his wishes. 
In this letter, he says, — 

Permit me here to say of Mr. Yan Buren, that I have found 
him everything I could desire him to be, and believe him not only 
deserving my confidence, biit the confidence of the nation. Instead 
of his being selfish and intriguing, as has been represented by his 
opponents, I have ever found him frank, open, candid, and manly. 
As a counsellor, he is able and prudent, republican in his prin¬ 
ciples, and one of the most pleasant men to do business with I 
ever saw. He is well qualified to fill the highest office in the gift 
of the people, who in him will find a true friend, and safe deposi¬ 
tary of their rights and liberty.” 

For two years, this Mrs. Eaton conflict raged bitterly. Foreign 


248 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


ministers and their wives were drawn into the troubled arena, 
Mr. Van Buren, however, succeeded in so governing his own 
actions, as to be ever increasing in strength. Daniel Webster 
wrote, early in the year 1831,— 

Mr. Van Buren has evidently, at this moment, quite the lead 
in influence and importance. He controls all the pages on the back 
stairs, and flatters what seems at present the ‘ Aaron’s serpent ‘ 
among the President’s desires, — a settled purpose of making out 
the lady, of whom so much has been said, a person of reputation. 
It is odd enough, but too evident to be doubted, that the conse¬ 
quence of this dispute in the social and fashionable world is pro¬ 
ducing great political effects, and may very probably determine 
who shall be successor to the present Chief Magistrate.” 

In the division of the cabinet, there were, for Mrs. Eaton, Mr. 
Van Buren, Major Eaton, Mr. Barry, and the President; against 
her, Mr. Ingham, Mr. Branch, Mr. Berrien, and the Vice-President, 
Calhoun. This latter personage now hated Van Buren with per¬ 
fect hatred. The President so loved him, that he was accustomed 
to address him with endearing epithets ; speaking of him to others 
as Van, and calling him, to his face, Matty. At length, the Presi¬ 
dent resolved to introduce harmony into his cabinet by the 
unprecedented measure of dismissing them all, and organizing 
the cabinet anew. This was to be accomplished by having those 
who were in sympathy with him resign, and receive rich oflSces 
elsewhere. If the others took the hint, and resigned also, well 
and good; if not, they were to be dismissed. Mr. Van Buren 
sent in his resignation, and immediately was appointed minister to 
the court of St. James. 

All this redounded to the reputation of Mr. Van Buren; and 
more and more he was regarded as the great magician, whose 
wand possessed almost supernatural power. Upon returning to 
New York, he met with a triumphant reception, and, early in the 
autumn of 1831, sailed for London. Soon after his arrival there. 
Congress again met. It was necessary that the Senate should 
ratify his appointment. Messrs. Calhoun, Clay, and Webster 
appeared prominently as his opponents, accusing him of such a 
spirit of narrow partisanship as to unfit him to be the representa¬ 
tive of our whole country. He was accused of being the origi¬ 
nator of the system of removing from office every incumbent, how¬ 
ever able and faithful, who did not advocate the principles of the 


MARTIN VAN BUREN, 


249 


party in power. It was during the discussion upon this question 
that Gov. Marcy of New York, in defending the system of party 
removals, uttered the memorable words, — 

It may be, sir, that the politicians of New York are not so 
fastidious as some gentlemen are as to disclosing the principles 
on which they act. They boldly preach what they practise. 
When they are contending for victory, they avow their intention 
of enjoying the fruits of it. If they are defeated, they expect to 
retire from office ; if they are successful, they claim, as a matter 
of right, the advantages of success. They see nothing wrong in 
the rule, that to the victor belong the spoils of the enemy.’’ 

In this hour, when Mr. Yan Buren was so bitterly assailed. Gov. 
Forsyth of Georgia paid the following beautiful tribute to his 
character: — 

Long known to me as a politician and a man; acting together 
in the hour of political adversity, when we had lost all but our 
honor; a witness of his movements when elevated to power, and 
in possession of the confidence of the Chief Magistrate and of the 
great majority of the people, — I have never witnessed aught in 
Mr. Yan Buren which requires concealment, palliation, or coloring; 
never any thing to lessen his character as a patriot or a man; 
nothing which he might not desire to see exposed to the scrutiny 
of every member of this body, with the calm confidence of unsul¬ 
lied integrity. He is called an artful man, a giant of artifice, a 
wily magician. Those ignorant of his unrivalled knowledge of 
human character, his power of penetrating into the designs and 
defeating the purposes of his adversaries, seeing his rapid advance 
to power and public confidence, impute to art what is the natural 
result of those simple causes. Extraordinary talent; untiring in¬ 
dustry ; incessant vigilance; the happiest temper, which success 
cannot corrupt, nor disappointment sour,—these are the sources of 
his unexampled success, the magic arts, the artifices of intrigue, 
to which only he has resorted in his eventful life. Those who 
envy his success may learn wisdom from his example.” 

Mr. Yan Buren’s rejection by the Senate must have been to 
him a great mortification. When the news reached London, it 
was proclaimed in all the journals of the city. That evening, 
Prince Talleyrand, the French minister, gave a party. Mr. Yan 
Buren was present, as calm, social, and smiling as if floating on 
the full tide of prosperity. He returned to America, apparently 


250 


LIVES OF TEE PRESIDENTS. 


untroubled; was nominated for Vice-President, in the place of Cal¬ 
houn, at the re-election of President Jackson ; and with smiles for 
all, and frowns for none, went to take his place at the head of that 
Senate which had refused to confirm his nomination as ambas¬ 
sador. 

Mr. Calhoun supposed that Mr. Van Buren’s rejection by the 
Senate would prove his political death, and is reported to have 
said triumphantly, “ It will kill him, sir, — kill him dead. He will 
never kick, sir, — never kick.^’ This rejection roused all the zeal 
of President Jackson in behalf of his repudiated favorite; and this, 
probably more than any other cause, secured his elevation to the 
chair of the Chief Executive. On* the 20th of May, 1836, Mr. Van 
Buren received.the Democratic nomination to succeed Gen. Jack- 
son as President of the United States. He was elected by a 
handsome majority, to the great delight of the retiring President. 

Leaving New York out of the canvass,” says Mr. Parton, “ the 
election of Mr. Van Buren to the presidency was as much 
the act of Gen. Jackson as though the Constitution had conferred 
upon him the power to appoint a successor.” 

It was one of the most brilliant days of spring, when the long 
procession which accompanied Mr. Van Buren to his inaugura¬ 
tion passed through Pennsylvania Avenue. A small volunteer 
corps escorted the President elect as he rode in a phaeton drawn 
by four grays. Gen. Jackson accompanied his friend, and both 
rode uncovered. As they alighted from the carriage at the foot 
of the steps, and ascended through the-dense and moving mass, 
the tall head of the old chieftain, with his bristling hair, towered 
above all the rest, and attracted every eye. The day was calm, 
and the air elastic. Twenty thousand people were there assem¬ 
bled. As Mr. Van Buren delivered his inaugural address, his 
clear voice, in its distinct articulation, reached every ear. 

The policy of the Government had been so distinctly marked 
out by Gen. Jackson, and Mr. Van Buren had so distinctly 
avowed his attention of following in the footsteps of his illus¬ 
trious predecessor, that there was no call for the introduction of 
any new acts, or for any change in the administration. 

Mr. Van Buren had scarcely .taken his seat in the presidential 
chair, when a financial panic, almost unprecedented in its disas¬ 
trous results, swept the land. Many attributed this to the war 
which Gen. Jackson had waged upon the banks, and to his en- 


MARTIN VAN BUREN. 


251 


deavor to secure an almost exclusive specie currency. Nearly 
every bank in the country was compelled to suspend specie pay¬ 
ment, and ruin pervaded all our great cities. Not less than two 
hundred and fifty houses failed in New York in three weeks. 
All public works were brought to a stand, and there was a gen¬ 
eral state of dismay. At the same time, we were involved in an 
inglorious war with the Seminole Indians in Florida, which re¬ 
flected no honor upon our arms. The slavery question was rising 
in portentous magnitude, introducing agitation, rage, and mob 
violence, in almost every city and village of the land. 

There was an insurrection in Canada against the British Gov¬ 
ernment, which came near involving us in a war with that nation. 
A party of Canadian insurgents had rendezvoused on Navy 
Island, in the Niagara River, opposite the village called Fort 
Schlosser, on the American side. A small steamboat, called “ The 



BUBNING OF “THE CAKOLINE.” 


Caroline,^' which was suspected of having carried ammunition and 
supplies to the insurgents, was moored to the American shore. 
The British commander, regardless of territorial rights, sent an 
armed force across the river, attacked the steamer, killed several 



252 


LIVES OF TEE PRESIDENTS. 


of her defenders, applied the torch to the boat, and sent it in 
flames over the Falls of Niagara. The circumstance called forth 
a long and angry correspondence with the British Government; 
and, in the exasperations of the hour, we barely escaped war. 

About the same time, there also arose a contest between Maine 
and Great Britain respecting boundary-lines; and there was the 
angry mustering of hosts, in preparation for battle. With all 
these troubles on his hands, the four years which Mr. Van Buren 
spent in the White House must have been years of anxiety and 
toil. Still, he was anxious for a re-election. Gen. Jackson did 
every thing in his power to aid him. But public sentiment was 
now setting so strongly against the Administration, that the Whig 
candidate, William Henry Harrison, was chosen President, and Mr. 
Van Buren was permitted to retire to the seclusion of Kinderhook. 

He had ever been a prudent man, of frugal habits, and, living 
within his income, had now fortunately a competence for his 
declining years. His unblemished character, his commanding 
abilities, his unquestioned patriotism, and the distinguished posi¬ 
tions which he had occupied in the government of the country, 
secured to him, not only the homage of his part}^, but the respect 
of the whole community. It was on the 4th of March, 1841, that 
Van Buren retired from the presidency. From his fine estate at 
Lindonwald, he still exerted a powerful influence upon the poli¬ 
tics of the country. In 1844, his friends made strenuous efforts to 
have him renominated for the presidency. The proslavery por¬ 
tion of the Democratic party, however, carried the day; and James 
K. Polk of Tennessee received the nomination. Again, in 1848, 
the Free-soil Democrats brought forward his name for the presi¬ 
dency. Three hundred thousand votes were cast in his favor. 
Gen. Taylor, however, the Whig candidate, was the choice of the 
people. From this time until his death, on the 24th of July, 1862, 
at the age of eighty years, he resided at Lindenwald, a gentleman 
of leisure, of culture, and of wealth ; enjoying, in a healthy, vigor¬ 
ous old age, probably far more happiness than he had before expe¬ 
rienced amidst the stormy scenes of his active life. He was 
surrounded by friends, and his own cheerful disposition gilded 
every hour. Martin Van Buren was a great and good man; and 
no one will question his right to a high position among these who 
have been the successors of Washington in the occupancy of the 
presidential chair. 






ENCRAYEE EXPEEb'.^i.T 


















































CHAPTER IX 


WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 

Sirth and Ancestry. — Enters United-States Army. — Is promoted. — Resigns his Commis¬ 
sion.— Sent to Congress. — Governor of Indiana Territory. — His Scrupulous Integrity. 

— Indian Troubles- — Battle of Tippecanoe.—War with Great Britain.— Governor 
Harrison’s Perplexities and Labors. — The British repulsed. — Tecumseh slain. — False 
Accusations- — Speech in Congress. — Reply to Randolph. — Letter to President Bolivar. 

— Temperance Principles. — Views respecting Slavery. — Duelling.—Elected Presi¬ 
dent. — Death. 


William Henry Harrison was born in Virginia, on the banks of 
the James River, at a place called Berkeley, the 9th of February, 



RESIPENOE OF 'WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 


1773. His father, Benjamin Harrison, was in comparatively opu¬ 
lent circumstances, and was one of the most distinguished men of 

253 

























254 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


his day. He was an intimate friend of George Washington, was 
early elected a member of the Continental Congress, and was con¬ 
spicuous among the patriots of Virginia in resisting the encroach¬ 
ments of the British crown. In the celebrated Congress of 1775, 
Benjamin Harrison and John Hancock were both candidates for 
the office of speaker. Mr. Harrison at once yielded to the illus¬ 
trious paj^riot from the Bay State; and, seeing that Mr. Hancock 
modestly hesitated to take the chair, Mr. Harrison, who was a very 
portly man, and of gigantic strength. With characteristic good 
nature and playfulness seized Mr. Hancock in his athletic arms, 
and carried him, as though he were a child, to the seat of honor. 
Then turning around, with his honest, beaming face, he said to 
his amused associates,— 

Gentlemen, we will show Mother Britain how little we care 
for her by making a Massachusetts man our President whom she 
has excluded from pardon by a public proclamation.’’ 

Like most men of large stature, Mr. Harrison was full of fun, and 
never liked to lose an opportunity for a joke. He was one of the 
signers of the Declaration of Independence; and he it was who 
made the ludicrous remark about hanging ” to Elbridge Gerry, 
to which we have referred in the life of Jefferson. 

Mr. Harrison was subsequently chosen Governor of Virginia, 
and was twice re-elected. His son William Henry, of course, en¬ 
joyed in childhood all the advantages which wealth and intellect¬ 
ual and cultivated society could give. Having received a thorough 
common-school education, he entered Hampden Sidney College, 
where he graduated with honor soon after the death of his father. 
He then repaired to Philadelphia to study medicine under the 
instruction of Dr. Rush and the guardianship of Robert Morris, 
both of whom were, with his father, signers of the Declaration of 
Independence. 

George Washington was then President of the United States. 
The Indians were committing fearful ravages on our north-western 
frontier. For the protection of the settlers, Gen. St. Clair was 
stationed, with a considerable military force, at Fort Washington, 
on the far-away waters of the then almost unexplored Ohio, near 
the spot where the thronged streets of‘Cincinnati are now spread 
out. Young Harrison, either lured by the love of adventure, or 
moved by the sufferings of families exposed to the most horrible 
outrages, abandoned his medical studies, and, notwithstanding the 


WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 


255 


remonstrances of his friends, i ntered the army, having obtained a 
commission of ensign from President Washington. He was then 
nineteen years of age. 

The hostile Indians, who had originally been roused against us 
during the war of the Revolution by the Government of Great Bri¬ 
tain, were spread over that vast wilderness now occupied by the 
States of Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois. They could bring many 
thousand warriors into the field, who had been supplied with am¬ 
munition and arms by the British authorities in Canada. Just 
before young Harrison received his commission, Geir. St. Clair, 
advancing into the wilderness with fourteen hundred men, was 
attacked by the Indians near the head waters of the Wabash, and 
utterly routed, with a loss of five hundred and thirty killed, 
and three hundred and sixty wounded. This awful defeat had 
spread consternation throughout the whole frontier. 

Winter was setting in. Young Harrison, in form and strength, 
was frail; and many of his friends, thinking he would be unable to 
endure the hardships of a winter campaign, urged him to resign 
his commission. He, however, rejected this advice, and, crossing 
the country on foot to Pittsburg, descended the Ohio to Fort 
Washington. The first duty assigned him was to take command 
of a train of pack-horses bound to Fort Hamilton, on the Miami 
River, about forty miles from Fort Washington. It was a very 
arduous and perilous service; but it was so well performed as to 
command the especial commendation of Gen. St. Clair. A veteran 
frontiersmai^ said of the young soldier, — 

I would as soon have thought of putting my wife into the ser¬ 
vice as this boy; but I have been out with him, and find those 
smooth cheeks are on a wise head, and that slight frame is almost 
as tough as my own weather-beaten carcass.” 

Intemperance was at that time, as it ever has been, the bane of 
the army; but young Harrison, inspired by some good impulse, 
adopted the principles of a thorough temperance man, to which 
he adhered throughout his whole life. This enabled him to bear 
hardships and endure privations under which others sank to an 
early grave. 

Soon he was promoted to the rank of lieutenant, and joined the 
army which Washington had placed under the command of Gen. 
Wayne to prosecute more vigorously the war with the Indians. 
The new general who succeeded St. Clair had acquired, by his 


256 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


reckless daring, the title of Mad Anthony.” On the 28th of No¬ 
vember, 1792, Gen. Wayne, with an army of about three thousand 
non-commissioned officers and privates, descended the Ohio from 
Pittsburg, a distance of twenty-two miles^ and encamped for the 
winter. In the spring, he conveyed his troops in boats down the 
river to Fort Washington. Here Lieut. Harrison joined the “Le-* 
gion,” as Wayne’s army was called. His soldierly qualities imme¬ 
diately attracted the attention and secured the confidence of his 
commander-in-chief. 

Several months were lost in waiting for supplies before the 
army could move. In October, they advanced to a post which they 
called Greenville, about eighty miles due north. Here the army 
encamped for the winter. A strong detachment was sent some 
twenty miles farther north, to occupy the ground where St. Clair 
was defeated, to bury the remains of the dead, and to establish 
there a strong post, which they named Fort Recovery. In this 
enterprise, Lieut. Harrison is mentioned as having rendered con¬ 
spicuous service. 

The Indians, in the early spring, attacked the fort with the 
greatest determination. They were, however, repulsed in repeated 
assaults, and at length retired, having lost a large portion of 
their band. 

Gen. Wayne then advanced with his whole army some sixty 
miles north to the junction of the Au Glaize and Maumee Rivers, 
where he constructed a strong fort. On the 20th of August, as he 
was continuing his march down the Maumee, he encountered the 
Indians in great force, lying in ambush. Their numbers were 
estimated at two thousand. A bloody battle ensued, in which 
both parties fought with the utmost desperation. The savages 
were driven bowling into the woods, their villages were burned, 
and their cornfields destroyed. This signal discomfiture broke 
their spirit, and they implored peace. Again Lieut. Harrison sig¬ 
nalized himself, and obtained from his commanding officer the 
following commendation: — 

Lieut. Harrison was in the foremost front of the hottest battle. 
His person was exposed from the commencement to the close of 
the action. Wherever duty called, he hastened, regardless of 
danger, and, by his efibrts and example, contributed as much to 
secure the fortunes of the day as any other officer subordinate 
to the commander-in-chief.” 


WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 


257 


Lieut. Harrison was promoted to the rank of captain, and 
was placed in command at Fort Washington. The British military 
posts in the north-west were about this time surrendered to the 
National Government; and Capt. Harrison was employed in occu¬ 
pying them, and in supplying them with provisions and military 
stores. While thus employed, he married a daughter of John 
Cleves Symmes, one of the frontiersmen who had established a 
thriving settlement on the banks of the Maumee. 

In 1797, Capt. Harrison, then twenty-four years of age, resigned 
his commission in tjie army, and was appointed Secretary of the 
North-weste*rn Territory, and ex officio Lieutenant-Governor, Gen. 
St. Clair being then Governor of the territory. At that time, the 
law in reference to the disposal of the public lands was such, that 
no one could purchase in tracts less than four thousand acres. This 
inured to the benefit of the rich speculator; and the poor settler 
could only purchase at second-hand, and at a greatly advanced 
price. Mr. Harrison, in the face of violent opposition, succeeded 
in obtaining so much of a modification of this unjust law, that the 
land was sold in alternate tracts of six hundred and forty and 
three hundred and twenty acres. The North-western Territory 
was then entitled to one delegate in Congress, and Capt. Harrison 
was chosen to fill that office. 

In the spring of 1800, the biorth-western Territory was divided 
by Congress into two portions. The eastern portion, comprising 
the region now embraced in the State of Ohio, was called ‘‘ The 
Territory north-west of the Ohio.’^ The western portion, which in¬ 
cluded what is now called Indiana, Illinois, and Wisconsin, was 
called “ The Indiana Territory.” William Henry Harrison, then 
twenty-seven years of age, was appointed by John Adams Governor 
of the Indiana Territory, and, immediately after, also Governor of 
Upper Louisiana. He was thus the ruler over almost as extensive a 
realm as any sovereign upon the globe. He was Superintendent of 
Indian Affairs, and was invested with powers nearly dictatorial over 
the now rapidly-increasing white population. The ability and 
fidelity with which he discharged these responsible duties may be 
inferred from the fact that he was four times appointed to this 
office, — first .by John Adams, twice by Thomas Jefferson, and 
afterwards by President Madison. 

When he commenced his administration, there were but three 
white settlements in that almost boundless region, how crowded 


258 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


with cities, and resounding with all the tumult of wealth and 
traflSc. One of these settlements was on the Ohio, nearly opposite 
Louisville; one at Vincennes, on the Wabash; and the third a 
French settlement. 

Gov. Harrison discharged his arduous duties with such manifest 
justice, that no one ventured to question his integrity. During 
his administration, he effected thirteen treaties with the Indians, 
by which the United States acquired sixty millions of acres of 
land. Gov. Harrison was sole commissioner, and every treaty he 
formed received the sanction of the President and Senate of the 
United States. He had ample opportunities to. enrich himself; 
for he could confirm grants of land to individuals, his sole signa¬ 
ture giving a title which could not be questioned : but he never 
held a single acre by a title emanating from himself. The fron¬ 
tiers of civilization are always occupied by a lawless class of 
vagabonds, who shrink from no outrages: these men abused the 
Indians in every way which passion or interest ■ could dictate. 
In a communication to the Government, July, 1801, Gov. Harri¬ 
son says,— 

All these injuries the Indians have hitherto borne with aston¬ 
ishing patience. But, though they discover no disposition to 
make war upon the United States, I am confident that most of 
the tribes would eagerly seize any favorable opportunity for that 
purpose ; and, should the United States be at war with any 
European nations who are known to the Indians, there would 
probably be a combination of more than nine-tenths of the North¬ 
ern tribes against us, unless some means are made use of to con¬ 
ciliate them.^' 

Mr. Jefferson was now President, and humanely made great 
exertions to protect the Indians, and to induce them to abandon 
their wild hunting-life, and to devote themselves to the cultiva¬ 
tion of the land. In 1804, Gov. Harrison obtained a cession from 
the Indians of all the land between the Illinois River and the 
Mississippi. 

A territorial legislature was soon organized for the rapidly- 
increasing population, over which the governor presided with 
that dignity, courtesy, and unswerving integrity, which secured 
to him universal respect. By nature, he had much kindness of 
heart; and his affability of manners, and his tact in meeting all 
varieties of human character, rendered him greatly beloved. His 


WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 


259 


magnanimous devotion to the public interest was such, that he 
several times appointed decided political opponents to offices of 
trust which he deemed them eminently fitted to fill. He was so 
cautious to avoid the appearance of evil, that he would not keep 
the public money on hand, but always made his payments by 
* drafts upon Washington. It has been said that no man ever dis¬ 
bursed so large an amount of public treasure with so little diffi¬ 
culty in adjusting his accounts. 

For twelve years, he was Governor of the Territory of Indiana. 
A wealthy foreigner, by the name of MTntosh, loudly accused 
the governor of having defrauded the Indians in the treaty of 
Fort Wayne. The governor demanded investigation in a court 
of justice; and not only was he triumphantly acquitted, but the 
jury brought in a verdict against M‘Intosh for damages to the 
amount of four thousand dollars. Gov. Harrison, having thus ob¬ 
tained the perfect vindication of his character, distributed one- 
third of the sum to the orphan children of those who had died hi 
battle, and restored the remainder to MTntosh himself. 

The proprietor of the land upon which the city of St. Louis now 
' stands offered him nearly half of the whole town for a merely 
nominal sum if he would assist in building up the place. So nice 
was his sense of honor, that he declined the offer, lest it might be 
said that he had used his official station to promote his private 
interests. In a few years, that property was worth millions. A 
large tract of land near Cincinnati had been sold, in the early set¬ 
tlement of the country, under an execution against the original 
proprietor, for a very small sum. At length, after the property had 
become immensely valuable, it was found, that, by some defective 
proceedings in the court, the sale was not valid; and the legal 
title was vested in Mrs. Harrison and another individual, as heirs- 
at-law. The lofty spirit of integrity which animated Gen. Harri¬ 
son led him instantly to discriminate between a legal and an 
equitable title. He obtained the consent of the co-heir, and imme¬ 
diately relinquished the whole property to the purchasers. These 
incidents surely reveal a character of very unusual magnanim¬ 
ity, disinterestedness, and generosity. 

The vast wilderness over which Gov. Harrison reigned was 
filled, as vre have mentioned, with many tribes of Indians. About 
the year 1806, two extraordinary men, twin-brothers, of the Shaw- 
nese tribe, rose up among them. One of these was called Te- 


260 


LIVES OF TEE PRESIDENTS. 


cumseh, or “The Crouching Panther;the other, Olliwacheca, oi 
“ The Prophet.’’ Tecumseh was not only an Indian warrior, but 
a man of great sagacity, far-reaching foresight, and indomitable 
perseverance in any enterprise in which he might engage. He 
was inspired with the highest enthusiasm, and had long regarded 
with dread and with hatred the encroachment of the whites upon 
the hunting-grounds of his fathers. .His brother, the Prophet, 
was an orator, who could sway the feelings of the untutored In¬ 
dian as the gale tossed the tree-tops beneath which they dwelt. 

But the Prophet was not merely an orator : he was, in the su¬ 
perstitious minds of the Indians, invested with the superhuman, 
dignity of a medicine-man, or a magician. With an enthusiasm 
unsurpassed by Peter the Hermit rousing Europe to the crusades, 
he went from tribe to tribe, assuming that he was specially sent 
by the Great Spirit. In the name of his divine Master, he com¬ 
manded them to abandon all those innovations which had been 
introduced through the white man, to return to the customs of 
their fathers, and to combine together for the extermination 
of the pale-faces. In co-operation with him, his heroic brother 
Tecumseh traversed thousands of miles of the forest, visiting the 
remoter tribes, announcing to them the divine mission of his 
brother, and seeking to enlist their co-operation. No discourage¬ 
ments chilled the zeal of these extraordinary and determined men. 
They probably wrought themselves up to the full conviction that 
they were commissioned by the Great Spirit. 

The Prophet had occasionally protracted meetings for exhorta¬ 
tion and pra 3 "er, in which, through successive days, he plied all 
the arts of devotion and persuasion to fire the hearts of his fol¬ 
lowers. Two years were thus employed by these two brothers. 

In the summer of 1808, the Prophet established his encamp¬ 
ment on the banks of the Tippecanoe, a tributary of the Upper 
Wabash. The measures of Tecumseh and the Prophet, in organ¬ 
izing this formidable conspiracy, had been conducted as secretly 
as possible; but the suspicions of the Government began to be 
aroused. To allay these suspicions, the Prophet visited Gov. 
Harrison, and, in an exceedingly insidious and plausible speech, 
stated that he had no designs whatever of rousing his people to 
hostilities; that h^ sought only their moral and religious im¬ 
provement. 

A large number of the Indians accompanied him. He often 


WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 


261 


preached to them in the presence of the governor; and his two 
great topics were the evils of war and of whiskey-drinking. His 
power over them had^become so great, that by no persuasions 
of the whites could one of his followers be induced to take a 
drop of intoxicating drink. Still rumors were continually reach¬ 
ing Gov. Harrison, that the Indians were making extensive 
preparations for hostilities. 

In his earnest solicitude to learn the facts in the case, he sent 
urgent invitations for both Tecumseh and the Prophet to visit 
him. Tecumseh at length came to Vincennes in proud array, with 
four hundred plumed warriors completely armed. A council was 
holder! on the 12th of August, 1809. The governor was quite 
unprepared for the appearance of a host so formidable. Assum¬ 
ing, however, that all was friendly, he met the proud chieftain, 
whom we call a savage, to deliberate upon the state of affairs. 
The governor was attended by the judges of the Supreme Court, 
a few army officers, and a number of citizens. A small body¬ 
guard, consisting merely of a sergeant and twelve men, were 
drawn up at a little distance. Tecumseh still affirmed, in a very 
dignified speech whiclj he made to the governor, that he had no 
intention of making war: but he very*boldly declared that it was 
hiis intention and endeavor to combine all the tribes for the purpose 
of putting a stop to all further encroachments by the whites; that 
not another acre of land should be ceded to them, without the 
consent of all the tribes; and that those chiefs who had recently 
made treaties by which they had disposed of lands to the United 
States should all be put to death. 

This statement led to indignant remonstrance on the part of 
Gov. Harrison. As he was speaking, Tecumseh interrupted him, 
and in angry tones, and with violent gesticulations, declared that 
he had cheated the Indians. Immediately his warriors, who were 
squatted upon the grass around, sprang to their feet, and began 
to brandish their war-clubs in the most threatening manner. 
Gov. Harrison rosa from his arm-chair, and drew his sword. Ihe 
army officers gathered around him. The citizens seized brick¬ 
bats, and such other weapons as they could lay their hands on; 
and the guard came rushing forward, ready to open fire upon the 
Indians. 

But Gov. Harrison calmly ordered them not to fire. Then, 
turning to Tecumseh, he told him that he should hold no more 


262 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 



and his companions retired to their encampment. That night the 
militia of Vincennes were under arms, every moment expecting 
an attack. The night, however, passed without any alarm. In 
the morning, Tecumseh called upon the governor, expressed re 
gret for his conduct the day before, and reiterated his declaration 
that he had no hostile intentions, but was still firm in his position 
that no more land should be ceded to the whites without the con¬ 
sent of the chiefs of all the tribes; and that the treaty which a few 
of the chiefs had recently entered into with the governor at Fort 
Wayne, he and his confederate tribes would regard as null and 
void. 

Soon after this. Gov. Harrison, anxious to conciliate, visitea 
Tecumseh at his camp on the Tippecanoe River, a branch of the 
Upper Wabash, some two hundred miles above Vincennes. He 
was politely received by the Indian chieftain; but he was informed, 
in language courteous but decided, that, though the Indians were 


communication with him, but that, as he had come under protec* 
tion of the council-fire, he might depart unharmed. Tecumseh 


HARRISON’S INTERVIEW WITH TECUMSEH. 









WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 


263 


very unwilling to go to war with the United States, they were 
determined that the land recently ceded should not be given up, 
and that no other treaty should ever be made without the consent 
of all the tribes. This was ridiculously assuming that all the 
land on the continent belonged to the Indians in common, and 
that tribes on the St. Lawrence could not enter into a treaty 
without the consent of tribes upon the Gulf. 

Months rolled on, while Tecumseh and the Prophet were busy 
in their hostile preparations. Marauding bands of Indians, whom 
they professed to be unable to control, were perpetrating innumer¬ 
able annoyances. Horses were stolen, houses plundered; and the 
frontier settlements, which had now become quite numerous, were 
thrown into a state of great alarm. Tecumseh set out on a journey 
to enlist the Southern Indians in his confederacy. The posture 
of affairs became so threatening, that it was decided that the 
governor should visit the Prophet’s town with an armed force, to 
observe what was going on, and to overawe by an exhibition of 
power, but to avoid hostilities if possible. Nearly a thousand 
troops were collected for this enterprise at Fort Harrison, on the 
Wabash, about sixty miles above Vincennes. 

The army commenced its march on the 28th of October, 1812. 
Conscious of the bravery and sagacity of their enemies, they 
moved in two bands, on each side of the Indian trail, over the 
prairies, in such order that they could instantly be formed into 
line of battle, or thrown into a hollow square. Their route led 
them along the east bank of the Wabash, through an open prairie 
country. Early in November, they approached the Valley of the 
Tippecanoe, and encamped within ten miles of the Prophet’s 
town. The next morning, the 5th, as they resumed their march, 
several parties of Indians were seen prowling about; but they 
evaded all attempts at communication, replying only to such en¬ 
deavors with defiant and insulting gestures. When they had 
arrived within three miles of the town, three Indians of rank made 
their appearance, and inquired why Gov. Harrison was approach¬ 
ing them in so hostile an attitude. After a short conference, 
arrangements were made for a meeting the next day, to agree 
upon terms of peace. 

But Gov. Harrison was too well acquainted with the Indian 
character to be deceived by such protestations. Selecting a 
favorable spot for his night’s encampment, he took every pre- 


264 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


caution against surprise. His troops were posted in a holbw 
square, and slept upon their arms. Each corps was ordered, in 
case of an attack, to maintain its position at every hazard, until 
relieved. The dragoons were placed in the centre, and were 
directed, should there be anj’’ alarm, immediately to parade, dis¬ 
mounted, and hold themselves in readiness to relieve the point 
assailed. The most minute arrangements were given to meet 
every conceivable contingency. 

The troops threw themselves upon the ground for rest; but 
every man had his accoutrements on, his loaded musket by his 
side, and his bayonet fixed. The wakeful governor, between 
three and four o’clock in the morning, had risen, and was sitting in 
conversation with his aides by the embers of a waning fire. It 
was a chill, cloudy morning, with a drizzling rain. In the dark¬ 
ness, the Indians had crept as near as possible, and just then, with 
a savage yell, rushed, with all the desperation which superstition 
and passion most highly inflamed could give, upon the left flank 
of the little army. The savages had been amply provided with 
guns and ammunition by the English. Their war-whoop was 
accompanied with an incessant shower of bullets. 

The camp-fires were instantly extinguished, as the light aided 
the Indians in their aim. With hideous yells, the Indian bands 
rushed on, not doubting a speedy and an entire victory. But Gen. 
Harrison’s troops stood as immovable as the rocks around them 
until the day dawned: they then made a simultaneous charge with 
the bayonet, and swept every thing before them. The wretched 
Indians found the predictions of their Prophet.utterly false ; for 
the bullets and the bayonets of the white man pierced their bodies 
with appalling slaughter. The Prophet was present to witness tliis 
terrible defeat of his picked braves. The Indians, even when most 
reckless, were careful to conceal themselves as much as possible 
behind trees and rocks; consequently,'in most of their battles, 
they lost but few in killed and wounded: but in this case, when 
they fled to the swamp, they left sixty-one dead upon the field, 
and one hundred and twenty bleeding and helpless. 

Though the victory was entire, the loss^of the Americans was 
fully equal to that of the Indians. 

Gen. Harrison was exposed like all his men. One bullet passed 
through the rim of his hat; another struck his saddle, and, glancing, 
hit his thigh; a third severely wounded the horse on which he 


WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 


265 


rode. His coolness and good generalship were so conspicuous as 
to add greatly to his reputation; and subsequently the battle of 
Tippecanoe became a watchword to inspire the zeal of those who 
were elevating him to the presidency of the United States. After 
burying the dead and taking care of the wounded, they burned 
the Indian town, and destroyed every thing which could aid the 
savages in their future hostilities; and returned to Vincennes. 

Tecumseh was then far away in the South, endeavoring to rouse 
the Indians there. But the tribes in the North-west, disappointed 
by the false predictions of the Prophet, and disheartened by their 
defeat, began to send deputies to Vincennes to secure peace. 
Soon, however, Tecumseh returned ; our second war with Great 
Britain commenced; and the savages were drawn into an alliance 
with the English, and were animated tg renew hostilities with 
more desperation than ever before. 

Gov. Harrison had now all his energies tasked to the utmost. 
The British, descending from the Canadas, were of themselves a 
very formidable force ; but with their'savage allies, rushing like 
wolves from the forest, searching out every remote farm-house, 
burning, plundering, scalping, torturing, the wide frontier was 
plunged into a state of consternation which even the most 
vivid imagination can but fiintly conceive. The war-whoop was 
resounding everywhere through the solitudes of the forest. The 
horizon was illuminated with the conflagration of the cabins of 
the settlers. Gen. Hull had made the ignominious surrender 
of his forces at Detroit. Under these despairing circumstances. 
Gov. Harrison was appointed by President Madison commander-in¬ 
chief of the North-western army, with orders to retake Detroit, 
and to protect the frontiers. 

To meet the emergency, he was invested with almost unlimited 
authority. His army was to be collected from widely dispersed 
cabins, where the women and the children would thus be left un¬ 
protected. His men were entirely ignorant of discipline. His 
officers were inexperienced. There was then neither railroad 
nor steamboat; and almost every thing for the supply of the army 
had to be transported over the wildest, roughest roads, from the 
Atlantic States. To reach Detroit, it was necessary for him to 
traverse a swampy forest, two hundred miles in extent, without 
roads; and the wilderness was ranged by the prowling Indian, 
ever liable to burst upon him from his ambush. At Detroit, he 


84 


266 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


would encounter the trained soldiers of England, veterans of a 
hundred battles, under leaders of renown, and aided by ferocious 
bands of savages, amply supplied with the most deadly weapons 
of war. The English had also quite a fleet which commanded the 
waters of Lake Erie. 

It would be difficult to place a man in a situation demanding 
more energy, sagacity, and courage; but Gen. Harrison was found 
equal to the position, and nobly and triumphantly did he meet 
all the responsibilities. A minute account of his adventures, his 
midnight marches, hiS'bloody conflicts, his sufferings from storms 
of sleet and snow, from famine, sickness, exposure, destitution, 
would fill volumes. The renown of such a man as Gen. Harrison 
is not cheaply gained. It is purchased at a great price. The 
Government, as we have mentioned, invested him with almost 
absolute power; but, with all his tireless energy, never did he 
in the slightest degree abuse that trust. 

He was a man of winning address, of a gentle and affectionate 
spirit, and possessed native'powers of persuasive eloquence which 
were very rare. A scene is described at one of their encamp¬ 
ments which will illustrate many others. The little army was 
groping through the forest, on the banks of the Au Glaise. Night 
came on, dark, stormy, and with sheets of rain. The low ground 
was soon flooded. They had no axes, could build no fires ; and, as 
they had got ahead of their baggage, they had no food. Some took 
their saddles, and sat upon them; others found logs; others stood 
in the water, and leaned against the trunks of trees. Thus they 
passed the miserable night. Gen. Harrison shared all these dis¬ 
comforts with his men. As he sat in the pouring rain, wrapped 
in his cloak, with his staff* around him, he called upon one of his 
officers, who had a fine voice, to sing a humorous Irish song, with 
the chorus, — 

Now’s the time for mirth and glee: 

Sing and laugh and dance with me.” 


The troops joined in the refrain; and thus, in that black night of 
storm and flood, the forest echoed with sounds of merriment. 

Gen. Harrison had succeeded in raising a force of about six 
thousand men. He soon became satisfied that Detroit could be 
taken only in a winter-campaign, when the vast morasses, being 
frozen, could be traversed by the army. His right wing was ren- 


WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 


267 


dezvoused at Sandusky. About eight hundred men, under Gen. 
Winchester, marched to the mouth of the River Raisin, where they 
were attacked, routed, and compelled to surrender. All the 
wounded were massacred by the Indians. Dreadful was the suffer¬ 
ing that this disaster caused ; and it was along time before it could 
be known who were prisoners, and who had fallen beneath the 
bloody knives of the savages. This unfortunate expedition had j 
been undertaken without the knowledge of Gen. Harrison. Hav¬ 
ing heard of the movement, he did every thing in his power, but in 
vain, to avert the disastrous results. Nine hundred of the most 
promising young men of the North-west were lost in this melan¬ 
choly adventure. This was the latter part of January, 1813. 
Gen. Harrison, who had now received the appointment of major- 
general in the United-States army, found it necessary to go into 
winter-quarters; though he fitted out three expeditions against 
the Indians, one only of which proved successful. 

The Government at length, urged by Gen. Harrison, prepared 
for the construction of a fleet to command the waters of the Lake. 
Gen. Harrison had an unstable body of men at Fort Meigs ; the 
enlistments being for short periods, and it being impossible to hold 
the men after the term of service had expired. The most arduous 
of Gen. Harrison’s labors were his almost superhuman exertions 
to raise an army. In August of 1814, the British, with their 
savage allies, appeared before Sandusky, which was protected by 
Fort Stephenson. They approached by their vessels along the 
lake, and also, with a land force, through the forest, followed by 
their howling allies. They were, however, after a stern battle, 
handsomely repulsed. On the 10th of September, Commodore 
PeiT}^, with his gallant squadron, met the British fleet, and, at the 
close of an heroic struggle, had the pleasure of announcing that 
they were ours. Gen. Harrison was now prepared to carry the 
war home to the enemy. He crossed the lake, took possession 
of Sandwich, the British retreating before him; and then sent a 
brigade across the strait, which seized Detroit. The British 
retreated up the Thames, pursued by the Americans. Proc¬ 
tor led the British forces, and Tecumseh led his savage allies. 
The foe made a stand on the banks of the Thames. The battle 
w ,is short and decisive. Our dragoons rode impetuously over the 
ranks of the British, and compelled an almost instantaneous sur¬ 
render. The Indians continued the figlit a little longer, but were 


268 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


at length dispersed, leaving their chief, Tecumseh, dead upon the 
field. All the stores of the British army fell into the hands of the 
victors. 

Gen. Harrison won the love of his soldiers by always sharing 
with them their fatigue. His whole baggage, while pursuing 
the foe up the Thames, was carried in a valise; and his bed¬ 
ding consisted of a single blanket lashed over his saddle. Thirty- 
five British officers, his prisoners of war, supped with him after 
the battle. The only fare he could give them was beef roasted 
before the fire, without bread or salt. 

This great victory gave peace to the North-western frontier; and 
Gen. Harrison decided to send a large portion of his force to 
Niagara, to assist in repelling the foe, who were concentrating 
there. Fifteen hundred men were transported by the fleet to 
Buffalo, which they reached on the 24th of October, 1814. 

In consequence of some want of harmony with the Secretary of 
War, Gen. Harrison resigned his commission, much to the regret 
of President Madison: he, however, still continued to be em¬ 
ployed in the service of his country. He was appointed to treat 
with the Indian tribes; and he conducted the negotiations so skil- 
* fully, as to secure the approbation both of the Indians and of the 
United-States Government. In 1816, Gen. Harrison was chosen 
a member of the National House of Representatives to represent 
the District of Ohio. It was not possible that a man who had 
occupied posts so responsible, who had often thwarted the at¬ 
tempted frauds of Government contractors, an^ who had defended 
the weak against the powerful, should not have some bitter 
enemies. In the contest which preceded his election to Congress, 
he Iiad been accused of corruption in respect to the commissariat 
of the army. Immediately upon taking his seat, he called for an 
investigation of the charge. A committee was appointed : his vin¬ 
dication was triumphant; and a high compliment was paid to his 
patriotism, disinterestedness, and devotion to the public service. 
For these services, a gold medal was presented to him, with the 
thanks of Congress. 

In Congress he proved an active member; and, whenever he 
spoke, it was with a force of reason, and power of eloquence, which 
arrested the attention of all the members. When the celebrated 
debate came up respecting the conduct cf Gen. Jackson during 
the Seminole war, he eloquently supported the resolutions of 


WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 


269 


censure, while he paid a noble tribute to the patriotism and good 
intentions of the feckless and law-defying general. In the splen¬ 
did speech which he made upon this occasion, which was alike 
replete with eloquence, true philosophy, and the most exalted 
patriotism, he said, — 

“ I am sure, sir, that it is not the intention of any gentleman 
upon this floor to rob Gen. Jackson of a single ray of glory ; much 
less to wound his feelings, or injure his reputation. If the resolu¬ 
tions pass, I would address him thus: ‘ In the performance of a 
sacred duty, imposed by their construction of the Constitution, 
the representatives of the people have found it necessary to disap¬ 
prove of a single act of your brilliant career. They have done it 
in the full conviction, that the hero who has guarded her rights in 
the fleld will bow with reverence to the civil institutions' of his 
country; that he has admitted as his creed, that the character of 
the soldier can never be complete without eternal reverence 
to the character of the citizen. Go, gallant chief, and bear with you 
the gratitude of your country; go, under the full conviction, that, 
as her glory is identified with yours, she has nothing more dear to 
her than her laws, nothing more sacred than her Constitution. Even 
an unintentional error shall be sanctified to her service. It will 
teach posterity that the Government which could disapprove the 
conduct of a Marcellus will have the fortitude to crush the vices 
of a Marius.’ ” 

, Gen. Jackson was not a man to bear the slightest opposition. 
These noble sentiments, as uttered by Gen. Harrison, he never 
forgot or forgave. 

In 1819, Harrison was elected to the Senate of Ohio; and in 1824, 
as one of the presidential electors of that State, he gave his vote 
for Henry Clay, and in the same year was chosen to the Senate 
of the United States. The half-crazed John Randolph made one of 
his characteristic attacks, virulent and senseless, accusing him of 
being a black-cockade Federalist, and of associating with gentle¬ 
men of that party. Mr. Harrison rose, and, with that dignified and 
attractive eloquence which he had at his command, said,— 

‘H am seriously charged with the heinous ofience of associating 
with Federal gentlemen. I plead guilty. I respected the Revolu¬ 
tionary services of President John Adams, and have paid him that 
courtesy which was due to him as a man and as Chief Magistrate. 
I have also associated with such men as John Marshall and James 


270 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


A. Bayard. Is the acknowledgment of such guilt to throw me out 
of the pale of political salvation ? 

^‘On the other hand, I am on intimate terms with Mr. Jefferson, 
Mr. Gallatin, and the whole Virginia delegation, among whom I 
have many kinsmen and dear friends. These were my principal 
associates in Philadelphia, in whose mess I have often met the 
gentleman who is now my accuser, and with whom I have spent 
some of the happiest hours of my life. It is not in my nature to be 
a violent or proscriptive partisan; but I have given a firm support 
to the Republican administrations of Jefierson, Madison, and Mon¬ 
roe. I hope the senator*from Virginia is answered.’^ 

In the latter part of the year 1828, President John Quincy 
Adams appointed Gen. Harrison minister plenipotentiary to the 
Republic of Colombia; but Gen. Jackson, immediately after his in¬ 
auguration in 1829, implacably recalled him. While he was in Co¬ 
lombia, the proposition was agitated of laying aside the Constitution, 
and investing Bolivar with the dictatorship. Gen. Harrison ad. 
dressed a letter to Bolivar, who was his personal friend, entreating 
him not to accede to this arrangement. This document was written 
with so much elegance of diction, such glowing eloquence, and 
such enlightened statesmanship, as to secure the admiration of 
every one who read it. 

A few sentences only can we quote as specimens of the whole: — 

“A successful warrior is no longer regarded as entitled to the 
first place in the temple of fame. In this enlightened age, the hero 
of the field, and the successful leader of armies, may, for the mo¬ 
ment, sittract attention; but it is such as will be bestowed upon 
the passing meteor, whose blaze is no longer remembered when it 
is no longer seen. To be esteemed eminently great, it is necessary 
to be eminently good. The qualities of the hero and the general 
must be devoted to the advantage of mankind before he will be 
permitted to assume the title of their benefactor. If the fame of 
our Washington depended upon his military achievements, would 
the common consent of the world allow him the pre-eminence he 
possesses? The victories at Trenton, Monmouth, and York, brilliant 
as they were, exhibiting, as they certainly did, the highest grade 
of military talents^ are scarcely thought of. The’ source of the 
veneration and esteem which are entertained for his character by 
every class of politicians—the monarchist and aristocrat, as well as 
the republican — is to be found in his undeviating and exclusive 


WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 


271 


devotedness to his country. No selfish consideration was ever 
suffered to intrude itself into his mind. General, the course which 
he pursued is open to you; and it depends upon yourself to attain 
the eminence which he has reached before you.” 

Upon Gen. Harrison’s return from Colombia to the United 
States, he retired to his farm at North Bend, on the Ohio, and, 
in the enjoyment of a humble competency, devoted himself to 
the peaceful pursuits of agriculture. With true Roman dignity, 
he accepted the office of clerk to the court of Hamilton County, as 
a means of adding to his limited income. In 1831, he was chosen 
to give the annual discourse before the agricultural society of 
that county. 

Gen. Harrison had once owned a distillery ; but, perceiving the 
sad effects of whiskey upon the surrounding population, he promptly 
abandoned the business, at a very considerable pecuniary sacrifice. 
In his very admirable address, he, with great fervor and eloquence, 
entreats his brother-farmers not to convert their corn into that 
poison which was found so deadly both to the body and to the 
soul. I speak more freely,” said he, “of the practice of con¬ 
verting the material of the staff of life into an article which is 
so destructive of health and happiness, because, in that way, I 
have sinned myself; but in that way I shall sin no more.” 

The subject of slavery was at this time fearfully agitating our 
land. Gen. Harrison, though very decidedly opposed to any 
interference on the part of the General Government with slavery 
as it existed in the States, was still the warm friend of universal 
freedom. In replying to the accusation of being friendly to 
slavery, he said, — 

“ From my earliest youth, and to the present moment, I have 
been the ardent friend of human liberty. At the age of eighteen, 
I became a member of an abolition society established at Rich¬ 
mond, Va., the object of which was to ameliorate the condition of 
slaves, and procure their freedom by every legal means. The 
obligations which I then came under I have faithfully performed. 
I have been the means of liberating many slaves, but never placed 
one in bondage. I was the first person to introduce into Congress 
the proposition, that all the country above Missouri should never 
have slavery admitted into it.” 

Again: the high Christian integrity of this noble man is devel¬ 
oped in the reply to a letter from a gentleman wishing to know 


272 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS, 


his views upon the subject of duelling. The whole letter was ad¬ 
mirable, and was one of the most effective attacks upon that 
absurd and barbarous system that has ever been made. In con¬ 
clusion, he says,— 

In relation to my present sentiments, a sense of higher obliga¬ 
tions than human laws or human opinions can impose has deter¬ 
mined me never on any occasion to accept a challenge, or seek 
redress for a personal injury, by a resort to the laws which com¬ 
pose the code of honor.” 

In 1836, the friends of Gen. Harrison brought him forward as a 
candidate for the presidency. Mr. Van Buren was the Adminis¬ 
tration candidate, supported by the almost omnipotent influence 
of Gen. Jackson. The opposition party could not unite, and four 
candidates were brought forward ; but the canvass disclosed the 
popularity of Gen. Harrison, as he received seventy-three electo¬ 
ral votes without any general concert among his friends. The 
'Democratic party triumphed over their disorganized opponents, 
and Mr. Van Buren was chosen president. 

• At the close of Mr. Van Buren’s four years of service, he was 
renominated by his party, and William Henry Harrison was unani¬ 
mously nominated by the Whigs, by a convention in which twenty- 
three out of the twenty-six States were represented. John Tyler, 
of Virginia, was nominated for the vice-presidency. The contest, 
as usual, was very animated. Gen. Jackson gave all his influence 
to prevent Gen. Harrison’s election; but his triumph was signal. 
He received two hundred and thirty-four electoral vows, leaving 
but sixty for Mr. Van Buren. He was then sixty-seven years of 
age. It may be doubted if any of his predecessors had taken the 
presidential chair better prepared for its responsibilities, in ability, 
education, experience, and immaculate integrity, than was Wil¬ 
liam Henry Harrison. 

His passage from his plain home to the Capitol presented a 
constant succession of brilliant pageants and enthusiastic greet¬ 
ings. 

A vast concourse attended his inauguration. His address on 
the occasion was in accordance with his antecedents, -and gave 
great satisfaction; expressing the fear that we were in danger 
of placing too much power in the hands of the President, and 
declaring his intention of exercising the powers intrusted to 
him with great moderation. 


WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 


273 


The cabioet which he’ formed, with Daniel Webster at its head 
as Secretary of State, was one of the most brilliant with which any 
President had ever been surrounded. Never were the prospects 
of an administration more flattering, or the hopes of the country 
more sanguine. In the midst of these bright and joyous prospects, 
Gen. Harrison was seized by a pleurisy-fever, and, after a few days 
of violent sickness, died on the 4th of April; just one short month 
after his inauguration. In the delirium of his sickness, as if aware 
that death was approaching, and fancying that he was addressing 
his successor, he said, — 

Sir, I wish you to ur lerstand the principles of the Govern¬ 
ment: I wish them carried out. I ask nothing more.^' 

These were his last words. His death was universally regarded 
as one of the greatest of national calamities. The nation mourned 
with unfeigned grief. Never, then, since the death of Washing¬ 
ton, were there, throughout our land, such demonstrations of sor¬ 
row. A careful scrutiny of his character and life must give him 
a high position in the affection and the esteem of every intelligent 
mind. Not one single spot can be found to sully the brightness 
of his fame; and, through all the ages, Americans will pronounce 
with love and reverence the name of William Henry Harrison. 


35 


CHAPTER X 


JOHN TYLER. . 

His Parentage. — Education and Scholarship. — Early Distinction. — Success at the Bar and 
in Political Life. — Democratic Principles.— Course in the Senate. — Elected Vice- 
President. — Accession to the Presidency. — False Position, and Embarrassments.— 
Retirement from Office. — Joins in the Rebellion. — Death. 

John Tyler was the favored child of affluence and high social 
position. His father possessed large landed estates in Virginia, 



and was one of the most distinguished men of his day; filling the 
offices of Speaker of the House of Delegates, Judge of the Su¬ 
preme Court, and of^^^ John was born in 

Charles-city County, Va., the 29th of March, 1790. He enioved, 

:i74 * * 































































JOHN TYLER. 


27b 


in his youthful years, all the advantages which wealth and paren¬ 
tal distinction could confer. At the early age of twelve, he en¬ 
tered William and Mary Colleg e; and graduated, with much honor, 
when but seventeen years old. His commencement address, upon 
Female Education,” was pronounced to be a very masterly per¬ 
formance. After graduating, he devoted himself with great 
assiduity to the study of the law, partly with his father, and 
partly with Edmund Randolph, one of the most distinguished law¬ 
yers of Yirginia. 

At nineteen years of age, he commenced the practice of the 
law. His success was rapid and astonishing. It is said that 
three months had not elapsed ere there was scarcely a case on 
the docket of the court in which he was not retained. When but 
twenty-one years of age, he was almost unanimously elected to a 
seat in the State Legislature. He connected himself with the 
Democratic party, and warmly advocated the measures of Jeffer¬ 
son and Madison. For five successive years, he was elected 
to the Legislature, receiving nearly the unanimous vote of his 
county. 

Sympathizing cordially with the Administration in the second 
war with England, when the British were ravaging the shores of 
Chesapeake Bay, he exerted himself strenuously to raise a mili¬ 
tary force to resist* them. When but twenty-six years of age, he 
was elected a member of Congress. Here he acted earnestly and 
ably with the Democratic party, opposing a national bank, inter¬ 
nal improvements by the General Government, a protective 
tariff, and advocating a strict construction of the Constitution, 
and the most careful vigilance over State rights. His labors in 
Congress were so arduojis, that, before the close of his second 
term, he found it necessary to resign, and retire to his estate in 
Charles County to recruit his health. 

He, however, soon after consented to take his seat in the State 
Legislature, where his influence was powerful in promoting public 
works of great utility. Many of his speeches developed states¬ 
manlike views, and powers of eloquence of a high order. With a 
reputation thus constantly increasing, he was chosen by a very 
large majority of votes, in 1825, governor of his native State, — 
a high honor; for Virginia had many able men to be competitors 
fof the prize. His administration was signally a successful one. 
He urged forward internal improvements, strove to remove sec- 



276 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


tional jealousies, and did much to rouse the people to an appre¬ 
ciation of their own interests. His popularity secured his 
re-election. 

John Randolph, a brilliant, erratic, half-crazed man, then repre¬ 
sented Virginia in the Senate of the United States. A portion 
of the Democratic party was displeased with Mr. Randolph’s way¬ 
ward course, and brought forward John Tyler as his opponent; 
considering him the only man in Virginia of sufficient popularity 
to succeed against the renowned orator of Roanoke. Mr. Tyler 
was the victor; and, in taking his seat in the Senate, he said to 
his Democratic constituents,— 

The principles on which I have acted, without abandonment 
in any one instance, for the last sixteen years, in Congress, and in 
the legislative hall of this State, will be the principles by which 
I shall regulate my future political life.’’ 

John Quincy Adams was then President of the United States, 
having been placed in that office by the Whigs. Mr. Tyler, imme¬ 
diately upon his election, declared, in a public letter, his uncom¬ 
promising hostility to the principles of Mr. Adams’s administra¬ 
tion. 

‘‘In his message to Congress,” wrote Mr. Tyler, “I saw an 
almost total disregard of the federative principle, a more latitudi- 
narian construction of the Constitution than has ever before been 
insisted on.. From the moment of seeing that message, all who 
have known any thing of me have known that I stood distinctly 
opposed to this administration.” 

In accordance with these professions, upon taking his seat in 
the Senate, he joined the ranks of the opposition. He opposed 
the tariff; he spoke against and voted .against the bank, as un¬ 
constitutional ; he strenuously opposed all restrictions upon 
slaver}^, resisted all projects of internal improvements by the 
General Government, and avowed his sympathy with Mr. Cal¬ 
houn’s views of nullification; he declared that Gen. Jackson, by 
his opposition to the nullifiers, had abandoned the principles of 
the Democratic party. Such was Mr. Tyler’s record in Congress, — 
a record in perfect accordance with the principles which he had 
always avowed. 

Perhaps there was never hate more unrelenting than that with 
which John C. Calhoun and Andrew Jackson regarded each other. 
VIr. Tyler was in sympathy with Mr. Calhoun ; voted with him; 


JOHN TYLER. 


277 


and it thus happened that Mr. Tyler was found in opposition to 
Jackson’s administration. This hostility to Jackson caused Mr. 
Tyler’s retirement from the Senate, after his election to a second 
term. The Legislature of Virginia passed resolutions, calling upon 
their senators in Congress to vote to expunge ^vov[i the journal of 
the Senate a vote censuring Gen. Jackson for his usurpation 
of power in removing tlie deposits of public money from the 
United-States Bank, and placing them in State banks. Mr. Tyler 
had cordially approved of this censure, avowing his convictions 
that Gen. Jackson had usurped powers which the Constitution 
did not confer upon him. He had also very emphatically expressed 
his belief that it was the duty of the representative to obey the 
directions of his constituents. Under these circumstances, he 
felt constrained to resign his seat. 

Returning to Virginia, he resumed the practice of his profes¬ 
sion. There was a split in the Democratic party. His friends 
still regarded him as a true Jeffersonian, gave him a public dinner, 
and showered compliments upon him. He had now attained the 
age of forty-six. His career had been very brilliant. In conse¬ 
quence of his devotion to public business, his private affairs had 
fallen into some disorder; and it was not without satisfaction that 
he resumed the practice of the law, and devoted himself to the 
culture of his plantation. 

Soon after this, he removed to Williamsburg, for the better edu¬ 
cation of his children; and again took his seat in the Legislati^re 
of Virginia. He had thus far belonged very decidedly to the 
Calhoun or States-rights party. The complications of party in 
this country are inexplicable.. There have been so many diverse 
and clashing interests, the same name being often used in differ¬ 
ent sections to represent almost antagonistic principles, that one 
need not be surprised to find Mr. Tyler, without any change of 
views, taking the name of a Southern Whig, still opposing the 
tarifi*, the bank, and advocating, to the fullest extent. State rights. 
He was still what the North would call a Democrat. 

By the Southern Whigs, he was sent to the national conven¬ 
tion at Harrisburg to nominate a President in 1839. The majori¬ 
ty of votes was given to Gen. Harrison, a genuine Whig, much 
to the disappointment of the South, who wished for Henry Clay. 
To conciliate the Southern Whigs, and to secure their vote, the 
convention then nominated John Tyler for Vice-President. It 


278 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


was well known that he was not in sympathy with the Whig 
party in the North: but the Yice-President has hilt very littl-e 
power in the Government; his main and almost only duty being to 
preside over the meetings of the Senate. Thus it happened that 
a Whig President, and, in reality, a Democratic Yice-President, 
were chosen. 

In 1841, Mr. Tyler was inaugurated Yice-President of the 
United States. In one short month from that time. President 
Harrison died; and Mr. Tyler thus found himself, to his own sur¬ 
prise and that of the whole nation, an occupant of the presi¬ 
dential chair. This was a new test of the stability of our institu¬ 
tions, as it was the first time in the history of our country that 
such in event had occurred. Mr. Tyler was at his home in 
Williamsburg when he received the unexpected tidings of the 
death of President Harrison. He hastened to Washington, and, 
on the 6th of April, was inaugurated into his high and responsible 
office. He was placed in a position of exceeding delicacy and 
difficulty. All his life long, he had been opposed to the main 
principles of the party which had brought him into power. He 
had ever been a consistent, honest man, with an unblemished 
record. Gen. Harrison had selected a Whig cabinet. Should he 
retain them, and thus surround himself with counsellors whose 
views were antagonistic to his own ? or, on the other hand, should 
he turn against the party which had elected him, and select a 
cabinet in harmony with himself, and which would oppose all those 
views which the Whigs deemed essential to the public welfare ? 
This was his fearful dilemma. 

President Tyler deserves more charity than he has received. 
He issued an address to the people, carefully worded, which gave' 
general satisfaction. He invited the cabinet which President 
Harrison had selected to retain their seats. He recommended a 
day of fasting and prayer, that God would guide and bless us. 

The Whigs carried through Congress a bill for the incoi^oration 
of the fiscal bank of the United States. The President, after 
ten days’ delay, returned it with his veto. He suggested, how¬ 
ever, that he would approve of a bill drawn up upon such a 
plan as he proposed. Such a bill was accordingly prepared, 
and privately submitted to him. He gave it his approval. 
It was passed without alteration,, and he sent it back with his 
veto. Here commenced the open rupture. It is said that Mr. 


JOHN TYLER. 


279 


Tyler was provoked to this measure by a published letter from 
the Hon. John M. Botts, a distinguished Virginia Whig, containing 
the following sentences, which severely touched the pride of the 
President: — 

Capt. Tyler is making a desperate effort to set himself up with 
the Locofocos: but heJl be headed yet; and I regret to say that it 
will end badly for him. He will be an object of execration with 
both parties,-—with the one, for vetoing'our bill, which was bad 
enough; with the other, for signing a worse one: but he is hardly 
entitled to sympathy. You’ll get a bank bill, but one that will 
serve only to fasten him, and to which no stock will be subscribed; 
and, when he finds out that he is not wiser in banking than all the 
rest of the world,* we may get a better.” 

The opposition now exultingly received the President into their 
arms. The party which elected him denounced him bitterly. All 
the members of his cabinet, excepting Mr. Webster, resigned. 
The Whigs of Congress, both the Senate and the House, held a 
meeting, and issued an address to the people of the United States, 
proclaiming that all political alliance between the Whigs and 
President Tyler was at an end. 

Still the President attempted to conciliate. He appointed a 
new cabinet of distinguished Whigs and Conservatives, carefully 
leaving out all strong party men. Though opposed to a protec¬ 
tive tariff, he gave his sanction to a tariff-bill, which passed Con¬ 
gress. Thus he placed himself in a position in which he found 
that he could claim the support of neither party. The Democrats 
had a majority in the House ; the Whigs, in the Senate. Mr. Wel> 
ster soon found it necessary to resign, forced out by the pressure 
of his Whig friends. 

Thus the four years of Mr. Tyler’s unfortunate administration 
passed sadly away. No one was satisfied. The land was filled 
with murmurs and vituperation. Whigs and Democrats alike 
assailed him. More and more, however, he brought himself into 
sympathy with his old friends the Democrats; until, at the close 
of his term, he gave his whole influence to the support of Mr. 
Polk, the Democratic candidate, for his successor. Several very 
important measures were adopted during his administration. 
Situated as he was, it is more than can be expected of human 
nature that he should, in all cases, have acted in the wisest man¬ 
ner; but it will probably be the verdict of all candid men, in a care- 


280 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


ful reviow of his career, that John Tyler was placed in a position 
of such exceeding difficulty, that he could not pursue any course 
which would not expose him to the most severe denunciation. 

Mr. Tyler earnestly and eloquently opposed any protective 
tariff. In glowing periods he depicted the abounding prosperity 
of the North, and the dilapidation and decay of the South. The 
fact no one could deny, that the North was bounding forward in 
the most brilliant career of prosperity, while the South presented 
a general aspect of paralysis and desolation. “ The protective 
tariff,’’ said Mr. Tyler, ‘‘ is the cause of our calamities and our de¬ 
cay. We buy dear, and sell cheap. That is the simple secret. 
The tariff raises the price of all we buy, and diminishes the de¬ 
mands for our products abroad by diminishing the power of foreign 
nations to buy them.” 

The reply to this cannot be better given than in the words of 
Mr. Parton, in his ‘‘ Life of Andrew Jackson: ” “ The Southern sys¬ 
tem— be it wrong or be it right, be it wise or be it unwise — is 
one that does not attract emigrants; and the Northern system 
does. That is the great cause. From the hour when Columbus 
sprang, exulting, upon these Western shores, the great interest of 
America has been emigration. That country of the New World 
has prospered most which has attracted the greatest number of 
the best emigrants by affording them the best chance to attain 
the sole object of emigration,—the improvement of their condition; 
and that portion of that country has outstripped the rest which 
offered to emigrants the most promising field of labor, For a man, 
view him in what light you may, is the most precious thing in the 
world: he is wealth in its most concentrated form. A stalwart, 
virtuous, skilful, thoughtful man, progenitor of an endless line of 
such, planted in our Western wilds to hew out home and fortune 
with his own glorious and beautiful right hand and heart, is worth, 
to the State that wins him, a thousand times his weight in Kohi- 
nor. Such have poured into the Northern States, in an abounding 
flood, these fifty years. Behold what they have wrought! 

“ Such emigrants go to the South in inconsiderable numbers, 
partly because from infancy they learn to loathe the very name of 
slavery. They sicken at the thought of it. They shrink from 
contact with it. They take Wesley’s characterization of it in the 
most literal acceptation of the' words, and esteem it the sum of all 
villanies, — that solely possible crime which includes in its single 


JOHN TYLER. 


281 


self all the wrong that man can wreak on man. Whether they are 
right or whether they are wrong in so thinking, is not a question 
here. They think so ; and, if they did not, they would not go in 
great numbers to the South, because it does not afford to a man 
with six children and a hundred dollars the immediate opportuni¬ 
ties for profitable • and congenial labor which the North affords. 
On the prairies, in the forests of the North, the struggling emf- 
grant finds himself surrounded by neighbors whose condition, 
antecedents, prospects, social standing, are all similar to his own. 
There is no great proprietor to overtop him. There is no slave 
with whom he has to compete. He forgets that there is any such 
thing as a graduated social scale, and feels, that, by virtue of his 
manhood alone, he stands on a level with the best.’^ 

It has been well said, that nothing is ever settled in this world 
until it is settled right. There can be no peace, and no abiding 
prosperity, until the brotherhood of man is recognized. True 
democracy demands impartial suffrage and equal rights for all; 
and, if any thing be certain, this is certain, — that true democracy 
will never rest content until this shall be attained. Whoever, 
therefore, places himself in opposition to this fundamental princi¬ 
ple of true democracy, does but perpetuate conflict, and postpone 
the long-looked-for hour when the bitter strife of parties shall 
cease. It is in vain for the demon of aristocracy and of exclusive 
privilege to clothe itself in the garb of democracy, and assume its 
sacred name. The masses cannot long be thus deceived, and 
those defrauded of their rights will not acquiesce unresistingly. 

. It is not slavery alone which saps the foundations of public 
prosperity: it is any attempt to keep any portion of the people 
ignorant and degraded, and deprived of privileges conferred upon 
others no more deserving. This was the political vice of John 
Tyler and his associates. They strained ^very nerve to keep 
millions of their fellow-countrymen in the South in a state of the 
most abject servility, ignorance, and degradation ; and then, as 
they looked around upon the general aspect of rags, impoverish¬ 
ment, and degradation in the South, and contrasted it with the 
beauty and wealth and power of those States in the North where 
every man was encouraged to feel himself a man, and to educate 
to the highest possible degree his children, and to surround his 
home with every embellishment which taste and industry could 
create, they refused to admit the true cause for the difierence. 

36 


282 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


In a beautiful strain of philosophic truth, the Hon. Mr. Dallas 
said in the Senate of the United States, in a debate upon this sub¬ 
ject in 1862, The lights of science and the improvements of art,^ 
which vivify and accelerate elsewhere, cannot penetrate, or, if 
tliey do, penetrate with dilatory ineflSciency, among the operatives 
of the South. They are merely instinctive and passive. While 
the intellectual industry of other parts of this country springs 
elastically forward at every fresh impulse, and manual labor is 
propelled and redoubled by countless inventions, machines, and 
contrivances, instantly understood and at once exercised, the 
South remains stationary, inaccessible to such encouraging and 
invigorating aids. Nor is it possible to be blind to the moral 
efiects of this species of labor upon those freemen among whom it 
exists., A disrelish for humble and hardy occupation, a pride 
adverse to drudgery and toil, a dread that to partake in the em¬ 
ployments allotted to color may be accompanied also by its degra- 
tion, are natural and inevitable. 

“ When, in fact, the senator from South Carolina asserts that 
‘slaves are too improvident, too incapable of that minute, con¬ 
stant, delicate attention, and that persevering industry, which are 
essential to the success of manufacturing establishments,’ he him¬ 
self admits the defect in the condition of Southern labor by which 
the progress of his favorite section must be retarded. He admits 
an inability to keep pace with the rest of the world. He admits an 
inherent weakness, — a weakness neither engendered nor aggra¬ 
vated by the tariff.” 

These views, now that slavery is dead, are as practically impor¬ 
tant as ever; for they do conclusively show that it is one of the 
first principles of political economy that there should not be fos¬ 
tered in any community a servile and degraded class* that it 
should be the first endeavor of the State to inspire every individ¬ 
ual, without a single exception, with the ambition to make the 
most of himself, intellectually, physically, and morally, that he pos¬ 
sibly can. Every facility should be presented, which wisdom can 
devise, to promote this elevation of the whole community. Every¬ 
where a poor, ignorant, degraded family is an element of weak¬ 
ness and impoverishment. But. Mr. Tyler, from the beginning to 
the end of his career, was the earnest advocate of slavery, — of its 
perpetuation and extension. 

On the 4th of March, 1845, he retired from the harassments of 


JOHN TYLER. 


283 


office^ to the regret of neither party, and probably to his own un¬ 
speakable relief. His first wife, Miss Letitia Christian, died in 
Washington in 1842; and in June, 1844, President Tyler was again 
married, at New York, to Miss Julia Gardiner, a young lady of 
many personal and intellectual accomplishments. 

The remainder of his days Mr. Tyler passed mainly in retirement 
at his beautiful home,— Sherwood Forest, Cbarles-city County, 
Ya. A polished gentleman in his manners, richly furnished with! 
information from books and experience in the world, and pos-1 
sessing brilliant powers of conversation, his family circle was 
the scene of unusual attractions. With sufficient means for the 
exercise of a generous hospitality, he might have enjoyed a serene 
old age with the few friends who gathered around him, were it 
not for the storms of civil war which his own principles and policy 
had helped to introduce. 

When the Great Rebellion rose, which the State-rights and nulli¬ 
fying doctrines of Mr. John C. Calhoun had inaugurated. President 
Tyler renounced his allegiance to the United States, and joined 
the Confederates. He was chosen a member of their Congress ; and 
while engaged in active measures to destroy, by force of arms, 
the Government over which he had once presided, he was taken 
sick, and, after a short illness, died. There were but few to weep 
over his grave, excepting his own family, to whom he was much 
endeared, and th^ limited circle of his personal friends. His last 
hours must have been gloomy; for he could not conceal from him¬ 
self that the doctrines which he had advocated were imperilling 
the very existence of the nation. Unfortunately for his memory, 
the name of John Tyler must forever be Associated with all the 
misery and crime of that terrible Rebellion whose cause he openly 
espoused. It is with sorrow that history records that a President 
of the United States died while d^ending the fiag of rebellion, 
which was arrayed in deadly warfare against that national banner 
which he had so often sworn to protect. 



CHAPTER XI 


JAMES KNOX POLK. 


Ancestry of ^Ir. Polk. — His Early Distinction. — His Success as a Lawyer. — Political Life 

— Long Service in Congress. — Speaker in the House.— Governor of Tennessee.— 
Anecdote. — Political Views. — Texas Annexation. — Candidate for the Presidency. 

— Mexican War. — Its Object and Results. — Retirement. — Sickness. — Death. 

Near the south-western frontier of North Carolina, on the east¬ 
ern banks of the Catav/ba, there is a region now called the 



RESIDENCE OF JAMES K. POLK. 


County of Mecklenburg. In this remote, almost unexplored 
wilderness, a small settlement was commenced by the Scotch- 
Trish in the year 1735. Among these settlers, there were two 
brothers l)y the name of Polk. Both of them were men of much 

284 * 




































































JAMES KNOX POLK. 


285 


excellence of character and of extensive influence. Early in the 
spring of 1775, news reached those distant settlers beneath the 
primeval forest of the atrocities which the crown of Great Britain 
was perpetrating against the liberties of this country, in Massa¬ 
chusetts. There were several public meetings held to discuss 
these wrongs. 

At length, Col. Thomas Polk, the elder of these brothers, well 
known and well acquainted in the surrounding counties, a man 
of great excellence and merited popularitywas empowered to 
call a convention of the representatives of the people. Col. Polk 
issued his summons; .and there was a convention in Charlotte, the 
shire-town of the county, held on the 19th of May, 1775. About 
forty of the principal citizens of the county of ^lecklenburg were 
present as delegates. At this meeting, the announcement was 
made, that the first blood of the Revolution had been shed in. 
Lexington, Mass. The excitement was intense. Anxious delib¬ 
erations were protracted late into the night, and resumed the 
next morning. People were, in the mean t‘ime, rapidly gathering 
in large numbers. Resolutions were at length adopted unani¬ 
mously, which were read from the court-house steps by Col. 
Polk, declaring that “we, the citizens of Mecklenburg County, 
do hereby dissolve the political bands which have connected us 
to the mother-country, and hereby absolve ourselves from all alle¬ 
giance to the British crown; and that we do hereby declare our¬ 
selves a free and independent people.’’ 

This heroic and extraordinary declaration of independence was 
unquestionably the first that was made. Col. Thomas Polk, and 
his brother Ezekiel, who I'esided then across the border, in South. 
Carolina, were among the most prominent men in this movement. 
In the course of the war which ensued, Lord Cornwallis estab¬ 
lished his headquarters at Charlotte, which he called the het-bed 
of rebellion, and the hornet’s nest. But little more is known re¬ 
specting Ezekiel Polk, who was the grandfather of James Knox 
Polk, the eleventh President of the United States. He left a 
son, Samuel, who married Jane Knox. Samuel Polk was a plain, 
unpretending farmer. James was the eldest son of a family of six 
sons and four daughters. He was born in Mecklenburg County, 
N.C., on the 2d of November, 1795. 

In the year 1806, with his wife and children, and soon after 
followed by most of the members of the Polk family, Samuel Polk 


286 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


emigrated some two or three hundred miles farther west to the 
rich valley of the Duck River. Here in the midst of the wilder¬ 
ness, in a region which was subsequently called Maury County, 
they reared their log huts, and established their new home. In 
the hard toil of a new farm in the wilderness, James K. Polk 
spent the early years of his childhood and his youth. His father, 
adding the pursuits of a surveyor to that of a farmer, gradually 
increased in wealth until he became one of the leading men of the 
region. His mother was a superior woman, of strong common 
sense and earnest piety. Young James often accompanied his 
father on his surveying tours, and was frequently absent from 
home for weeks together, climbing the mountains, threading the 
defiles, exposed to all the vicissitudes of the weather, and not a 
little in peril from hostile Indians. To a boy of reflective spirit, 
there is much in such a life to bring out all there is noble in his 
nature. 

Very early in life, James developed a taste for reading, and 
expressed the strongest desire to obtain a liberal education. His 
mother’s training had rendered him methodical in his habits, had 
taught him punctuality and industry, and had inspired him with 
lofty principles of morality. James, in the common schools, 
rapidly became a proficient in all the common branches of an Eng¬ 
lish education. His health was frail; and his father, fearing that 
he might not be able to endure a sedentary life, got a situation 
for him behind ‘the counter, hoping to fit him for commercial 
pursuits. 

This was to James a bitter disappointment. He had no taste 
for these duties, and his daily tasks were irksome in the extreme. 
He remained in this uncongenial occupation but a few weeks, 
when, at his earnest solicitation, his father removed him, and made 
arrangements for him to prosecute his studies. Soon after, he 
sent him to Murfreesborough Academy. This was in 1813. With 
ardor which could scarcely be surpassed, he pressed forward in 
his studies, and in less than two and a half years, in the autumn 
of 1815, entered the sophomore class in the University of North 
Carolina, at Chapel Hill. Here he was one of the most exemplary 
of scholars, so punctual in every exercise, never allowing himself 
to be absent from a recitation or a religious service, that one of 
the wags of college, when he wished to aver the absolute cer¬ 
tainty of any thing, was in the habit of saying, It is as certain 
as that Folk will get up at the first call.” 


JAMES KNOX POLK. 


287 


To every branch of a solid and an accomplished education he 
alike devoted his energies. He graduated in 1818 with the high¬ 
est honors, being deemed the best scholar of his class, both in 
mathematics and the classics. He was then twenty-three years 
of age. Mr. Polk’s health was at that time much impaired by the 
assiduity with which he had prosecuted his studies. After a 
short season of relaxation, he went to Nashville, and entered the 
office of Felix Grundy to study law. Mr. Grundy was a man of 
national fame, not only standing at the head of the bar in Nash¬ 
ville, but having also distinguished himself on the floor of Con¬ 
gress. Here Mr. Polk renewed his acquaintance with Andrew 
Jackson, who resided on his plantation, the Hermitage, but a 
few miles from Nashville. They had probably been slightly ac¬ 
quainted before. When Mrs. Jackson, with her two orphan boys, 
fled before the army of Cornwallis, she took refuge in Mecklen¬ 
burg County, and for some time resided with the neighbors of 
Mr. Polk’s father. 

As soon as he had finished his legal studies, and been admitted 
to the bar, he returned to Columbia, the shire-town of Maury 
County, and opened an office. His success was rapid. Very sel¬ 
dom has any young man commenced the practice of the law more 
thoroughly prepared to meet all of its responsibilities. With rich 
stores of information, all his faculties well disciplined, and with 
habits of close and" accurate reasoning, he rapidly gained business, 
and won fame. 

Mr. Polk’s father was a Jeffersonian Republican, and James K. 
Polk ever adhered to the same political faith. He was a* popular 
public speaker, and was constantly called upon to’address the 
meetings of his party friends. His skill as a speaker was such, 
that he was popularly called the Napoleon of the stump. He was 
a man of unblemished morals, genial and courteous in his bear¬ 
ing, and with that sympathetic nature in the joys and griefs of 
others which ever gave him troops of friends. There is scarcely 
any investment which a man can make in this world so prpfitable 
as pleasant words and friendly smiles, provided always that those 
words and smiles come honestly from the heart. In 1823, Mr. 
Polk was elected to the Legislature of Tennessee. Here he gave 
his strong influence towards the election of his friend, Andrew 
Jackson, to the presidency of the United States. He also pro¬ 
cured the passage of a law designed to prevent duelling. From 


288 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


principle, be was utterly opposed to the practice ; and it required 
no little moral courage for one, in those rude times and regions, 
to attempt the abrogation of that so-calkd code of honor,’^ obedi¬ 
ence to which was deemed essential to the character of a chival- 
ric gentleman. 

Mr. Polk, as a strict constructionist,” did not think that the 
Constitution empowered they,General Government to carry on a 
system of internal improvements in the States; but, with Mr. 
Monroe, he deemed it important that the Government should have 
that power, and wished to have the Constitution amended that it 
might be conferred. Subsequently, however, with most of the 
Southern gentlemen, he became alarmed lest the General Govern¬ 
ment should become so strong as to undertake to interfere with 
slavery. He therefore gave all his influence to strengthen the 
State governments, and to check the growth of the central 
j)ower. 

In January, 1824, Mr. Polk married Miss Sarah Childress of 
Rutherford County, Tenn. His bride was altogether worthy 
of him, — a lady of beauty and of culture. Had some one then 
whispered to him that he was destined to become President of the 
United States, and that he should select for his companion one who 
would adorn that distinguished station, he could not have made a 
more fitting choice. The following anecdote is related of Mrs. 
Polk, when, in 1848, she was lady of the White House. It should 
be remembered that Mr. Polk was a Democrat, and Mr. Clay a 
Whig, and that they had been rival candidates for the presidency. 
There was quite a brilliant dinner-party at the Presidents. 
Henry Cla^ * as one of the most distinguished guests, was honored 
with a seat near Mrs. Polk, who as usual, by her courteous and 
affable manner, won the admiration of all her guests. 

During the entertainment, Mr. Clay turned to her, and said, in 
those winning tones so peculiar to him, — 

“ Madam, I must say, that in my travels, wherever I have been, 
in all companies and among all parties, I have heard but one opin¬ 
ion of you. All agree in commending, in the highest terms, your 
excellent administration of the domestic affairs of the White 
House. But,” continued he, looking towards her husband, ‘‘ as 
for that young gentleman there, I cannot say as much. There is 
some little difference of opinion in regard to the policy of his 
<"ourse.” 


JAMES KNOX POLK 


289 


“ Indeed/^ said Mrs. Polk, “ I am glad to hear that my adminis- 
tration is popular; and, in return for your compliment, I will 
say, that, if the country should elect a Whig next fall, I know of 
no one whose elevation would please me more than that of Henry 
Clay. And I will assure you of one thing: if you do have occa¬ 
sion to occupy the White House on the 4th of March next, it 
shall be surrendered to you in perfect order from garret to 
cellar.” 

'‘Thank you, thank you ! ” exclaimed Mr. Clay: " I am certain 
that”— No more could be heard, such a burst of laughter fol¬ 
lowed Mrs. Polk’s happy repartee. In the fall of 1825, Mr. Polk 
was chosen a member of Congress. The satisfaction which he 
gave to his constituents may be inferred from the fact, that for 
fourteen successive years, until 1839, he was continued in that 
office. He then voluntarily withdrew, only that he might accept 
the gubernatorial chair of his native State. In Congress he was 
a laborious member, a frequent and a popular speaker. He 
was always in his seat, always courteous; and, whenever he spoke, 
it was always to the point, and without any ambitious rhetorical 
display. Mr. Polk was the warm friend of Gen. Jackson, who 
had been defeated in the electoral contest by John Quincy 
Adams. This latter gentleman had just taken his seat in the 
presidential chair when Mr. Polk took his seat in the House of 
Representatives. He immediately united himself with the oppo¬ 
nents of Mr. Adams, and was soon regarded as the leader pf the 
Jackson party in the House. 

The four years of Mr. Adams’s administration passed away, and 
Gen. Jackson took the presidential chair. Mr. Polk had now be¬ 
come a man of great influence in Congress, and was chairman of 
its most important committee, — that of Ways and Means. Elo¬ 
quently he sustained Gen. Jackson in all of his measures, — in his 
hostility to internal improvements, to the bank, to the tariff. The 
eight years of Gen. Jackson’s administration ended, and the 
powers he had wielded passed into the hands of Martin Van 
Buren; and still Mr. Polk remained in the House, the advocate of 
tliat type of Democracy which those distinguished men upheld. 

During five sessions of Congress, Mr. Polk was Speaker of the 
House. Strong passions were roused, and stormy scenes were 
witnessed ; but Mr. Polk performed his arduous duties to very 
general satisfaction, and a unanimous vote of thanks to him was 
37 


290 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


passed by the House as he withdrew on the 4th of March, 1839. 
In his closing address, he said, — 

“ When I look back to the period when I first took my seat in 
this House, and then look around me for those who were at that 
time my associates here, I find but few, very few, remaining. 
But five members who were here with me fourteen years* ago 
continue to be members of this body. My service here has been 
constant and laborious. I can perhaps say what few others, if 
any, can, — that I have not failed to attend the daily sittings of this 
House a single day since I have been a member of it, save on a 
single occasion, when prevented for a short time by indispo¬ 
sition. In my intercourse with the members of this body, when I 
occupied a place upon the floor, though occasionally engaged in 
debates upon interesting public questions and of an exciting 
character, it is a source of unmingled gratification to me to recur 
to the fact, that on no occasion was there the slightest personal 
or unpleasant collision with any of its members.’' 

In accordance with Southern usage, Mr. Polk, as candidate for 
governor, canvassed the State. He was elected by a large ma¬ 
jority, and on the 14th of October, 1839, took the oath of office at 
Nashville. In 1841, his term of office expired, and he was again 
the candidate of the Democratic party. But, in the mean time, a 
wonderful political revolution had swept over the whole country. 
Martin Van Buren had lost his re-election, and Gen. Harrison had 
been called triumphantly to the presidential chair. In Tennessee, 
the Whig ticket had been carried by over twelve thousand ma¬ 
jority. Under these circumstances, the success of Mr. Polk was 
hopeless. Still he canvassed the State with his Whig competitor, 
Mr. Jones, travelling in the most friendly manner together, often 
in the samae carriage, and, it is said, at one time sleeping in the 
same bed. Mr. Jones obtained the election by three thousand 
majority. Again, in 1843, the same gentlemen were competitors 
for the governorship, and again Mr. Polk was defeated. 

And now the question of the annexation of Texas to our countr}^ 
agitated fearfully the whole land. It was a plan which originated 
with the advocates of slavery, that they might get territory to cut 
up into slave States, to counterbalance the free States which were 
being formed in the North-west. Texas was a province of Mexico. 
We were on friendly terms with that puny and distracted republic, 
and could find no plausible occasion to pick a quarrel with it. The 


JAMES KNOX POLK. 


291 


territory we coveted was in extent equal to the whole empire of 
France, and could be divided into six first-class States. The fol¬ 
lowing plaA was adopted to gain the prize : — 

There was a wild, eccentric' frontiersman, by the name of Sam 
Houston, who had abandoned civilization, and for six years had 
lived among the Indians, adopting their habits. He was a man 
of very considerable native ability. In his character, there was a 
singular blending of good and bad qualities. He had so far com¬ 
mended himself to the Cherokee Indians, that they had chosen him 
as one of their chiefs. This man gathered a pretty numerous 
band of lawless adventurers, and entered Texas to wrest it frcym 
Mexico as a private speculation. The plan was distinctly an¬ 
nounced ; and from all parts of the country there was a very ex¬ 
tensive emigration to those wide and fertile plains of those who 
were in sympathy with the movement. They went strongly 
armed, and with abundant supplies furnished them from the South. 

These men, settlers in Texas, in 1836 called a convention, 
issued a declaration of independence, formed a constitution estab¬ 
lishing perpetual slavery, and chose their intrepid leader, Sam 
Houston, their governor. A short, bloody, merciless war ensued. 
The Mexicans were utterly repulsed. Population from the United 
States rapidly flowed in. It was manifest to every one that 
Mexico could never regain her lost province. The first step was 
triumphantly accomplished. A few months after this, the second 
step was taken, and Congress acknowledged the independence of 
Texas. The Texans then sent an envoy to Washington, proposing 
the annexation of Texas to the American Union. 

The friends of slavery generally were in favor of the movement. 
Mr. Benton said that nine slave States could be carved out of the 
majestic domain, each nearly equal to the State of New York. 
Most of the foes of slavery extension were opposed to the measure 
of annexation. Mr. Webster said, — 

Slavery in this country stands where the Constitution left it. 
I have taken an oath to support the Constitution, and I mean to 
abide by it. I shall do nothing to carry the power of the General 
Government within the just bounds of the States. I shall do 
nothing to interfere with the domestic institutions of the South, 
and the Government of the United States have no right to interfere 
therewith. But that is a very different thing from not interfering 
to prevent the extension of slavery by adding a large slave 


292 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


country to this. Texas is likely to be a slaveholding country; 
and I frankly avow my unwillingness to do any thing that shall 
extend the slavery of the African race on this continent, or add 
another slaveholding State to this Union.” 

Thus the question of the annexation of Texas became national. 
Mr. Polk, as the avowed champion of annexation, became the 
presidential candidate of the proslavery wing of the Democratic 
party, and Dallas their candidate for the vice-presidency. He 
was elected by a majority, in the popular vote, of about forty 
thousand. In January, 1845, he left his home in Tennessee for 
Washington, having first had a long private interview with Gen. 
Jackson at the Hermitage. As he was ascending the Ohio River 
in a steamboat at one of the landings, a plain, farmer-like looking 
man, in his working-dress, pressed through the crowd, and, taking 
Mr. Polk’s hand, said,— 

How do you do, colonel? I am glad to see you. I am a 
strong Democrat, and did all I could for you. I am the father of 
twenty-six children, who were all for Polk., Dallas, and TexasP 

On the 4th of March, 1845, Mr. Polk was inaugurated President 
of the United States. The verdict of the country in favor of an¬ 
nexation exerted its influence upon Congress; and the last act of 
the administration of President Tyler was to affix his signature to 
a joint resolution of Congress, passed on the 3d of March, approv¬ 
ing of the annexation of Texas to the American Union. As 
Mexico still claimed Texas as one of her provinces, the Mexican 
minister, Almonte, immediately demanded his passports, and left 
the country, declaring the act of annexation to be an act hostile 
to Mexico. But Mexico was poor, feeble, and distracted, — a very 
feeble foe for this great republic to encounter. It would have 
been folly for her to attempt to strike a blow. She could only 
protest. 

In his first message. President Polk urged that Texas should 
immediately, by act of Congress, be received into the Union on 
the same footing with the other States. ' In the mean time, Gen. 
Taylor was sent with an army into Texas to hold the country. He 
was sent first to the Nueces, which the Mexicans said was the 
western boundary of Texas. Then he was sent nearly two hun¬ 
dred miles farther west, to the Rio Grande, where he erected 
batteries which commanded the Mexican city of Matamoras, which 
was situated on the western banks. 


JAMES KNOX POLK. 


293 


The anticipated collision soon took place. We had pushed for¬ 
ward our army nearly two hundred miles, to the extreme western 
frontier of the disputed territory; had erected our batteries so as 
to command the Mexican city of Matamoras, on the opposite banks ; 
had placed our troops in such a position, that lawless violence was 
sure to provoke retaliation; and then, as soon as the Mexican 
troops crossed the river, and a conflict ensued. President Polk 
announced to the country that war with Mexico existed. 

''Now, Mexico,’' he said, "has passed the boundary of the 
United States, has invaded our territory, and shed American blood 
on American soil. She has proclaimed that hostilities have com¬ 
menced, and that the two nations are at war. As war exists, not¬ 
withstanding our efibrts to avoid it, — exists by the act of Mexico 
herself, — we are called upon by every consideration of duty and 
patriotism to vindicate with decision the honor, rights, and inter¬ 
ests of our country.” 

The war was pushed forward by Mr. Polk’s administration with 
great vigor. Gen. Taylor, whose army was first called one of 
"observation,” then of" occupation,” then of" invasion,” was sent 
forward to Monterey. The feeble Mexicans, in every encounter, 
were hopelessly and awfully slaughtered. The day of judgment 
alone can reveal the misery which was caused. It was by the in¬ 
genuity of Mr. Polk’s administration that the war was brought on. 
Mr. Webster said,— 

"I believe, that, if the question had been put to Congress 
before the march of the armies and their actual conflict, not ten 
votes could have been obtained in either House for the war with 
Mexico under the existing state of things.” 

" To the victors belong the spoils.” Mexico was prosti’ate 
before us. Her capital was in our hands. We now consented to 
peace upon Ijie condition that Mexico should surrender to us, in 
addition to Texas, all of New Mexico, and all of Upper and Lower 
California. This new demand embraced, exclusive of TexaSj eight 
hundred thousand square miles. This was an extent of territory 
equal to nine States of the size of New York. Thus slavery was 
securing eighteen majestic States to be added to the Union. 
There were some Americans who thought this all right: there 
were others who thought it all wrong. 

Mr. Polk’s administration called for a grant of three millions of 
dollars, to be judiciously expended among the Mexicans to induce 


294 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


them voluntarily to make this surrender. There was a split in 
the Democratic party; and some of the Northern Democrats suc¬ 
ceeded in attaching to this appropriation what was called the 
Wilmot Proviso,” in these words : — 

“ Provided always that there shall be neither slavery nor invol¬ 
untary servitude in any territory on the continent of America 
which shall hereafter be acquired or annexed to the United States 
by virtue of this appropriation, or in any other manner whatso¬ 
ever, except for crimes whereof the party shall have been duly 
convicted.” 

This was called also the Thomas Jefferson Proviso, as its lan¬ 
guage was copied from the ordinance originally draughted by him 
for the government of the North-western Territory. This restric¬ 
tion struck Mr. Polk and his friends with consternation. They 
did not wish to annex one single acre more of land, unless it could 
add to the area of slavery. The excitement which pervaded the 
Southern mind was violent in the extreme. Passionate speeches 
were made. Fiery resolutions were draughted by legislatures of 
the slaveholding States. The dissolution of the Union ” was 
threatened. Under the influence of the threat, the proviso was 
reconsidered and rejected. 

At last, peace was made. We had wrested from Mexico terri¬ 
tory equal, it has been estimated, to four times the empire of 
France, and five times that of Spain. In the prosecution of this 
war, we expended twenty thousand lives, and more than a hundred 
million of dollars. Of this money, fifteen millions were paid to 
Mexico. 

“ God moves in a mysterious way 
His wonders to perform.” 

Scarcely twenty years elapsed ere the whole of this vast region 
was consecrated to freedom. Gold was discovered,in California. 
Northern emigrants rushed to gather it, carrying with them 
Northern love of liberty; and California became a free State. Mr. 
Polk, highly gratified with his success, — for he had no doubt that 
the whole region was to be consecrated to slavery, — presented the 
treaty to the Senate for its ratification on the 10th of March, 1848. 

Justice to Mr. Polk’s memory requires that his view of the 
righteousness and expediency of the war with Mexico should be 
given. While no one will dissent from the facts which have 
already been presented, there are many who will assert that the 


JAMES KNOX POLK. 


295 


reasons which Mr. Polk urges in the following sentences were 
not the true causes of the war. In his second Annual Message. 
December, 1846, he says,— 

The existing war with Mexico was neither provoked nor de¬ 
sired by the United States : on the contrary, all honorable means 
were resorted to to avoid it. After years of endurance of aggra- 
vated and unredressed wrongs on our part, Mexico, in violation 
of solemn treaty stipulations, and of every principle of justice 
recognized by civilized nations, commenced hostilities, and thus, 
by her own act, forced the war upon us. Long before the ad ance 
of our army to the left bank of the Rie Grande, we had ample 
cause of war against Mexico. The war has been represented as 
unjust and unnecessary; as one of aggression, on our part, on a 
weak and injured enemy. Such erroneous views, though enter¬ 
tained but by a few, have been widely and extensively circulated, 
not only at home, but have been spread throughout Mexico and 
the whole world. 

“ The wrongs which we have suffered from Mexico almost ever 
since she became an independent power, and the patient endur¬ 
ance with which we have borne them, are without a parallel in 
the history of modern civilized nations. Scarcely had Mexico 
achieved her independence, when she commenced the system of 
insult and spoliation which she has ever since pursued. Our 
citizens, engaged in lawful commerce, were imprisoned, their 
vessels seized, and our flag insulted in her ports. If money was 
wanted, the lawless seizure and confiscation of our merchant- 
vessels and their cargoes was a ready resource; and if, to accom¬ 
plish their purposes, it became necessary to imprison the owners, 
captain, and crew, it was done. Rulers superseded rulers in 
Mexico in rapid succession; but still there was no change in this 
system of depredation. The Government of the United States 
made repeated reclamations on behalf of its citizens; but these 
were answered by the perpetration of new outrages.'^ In this 
general strain of remark he continues through several closely 
printed pages, and then says, “ Such is the history of the wrongs 
which we have suffered and patiently endured from Mexico 
through a long series of years.’' 

The annexation of Texas,” he continues, ‘^constituted no just 
cause of offence to Mexico.” After giving a brief description of 
the previous history of Texas, and the nature of its union with 


296 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


Mexico, as one of its confederate States, he says, Emigrants from 
foreign countries were, invited by the colonization-laws of the 
State and of the Federal Government to settle in Texas. This 
invitation was accepted by many of our citizens, in the full faith, 
that, in their new home, they would be governed by laws enacted 
by representatives elected by themselves; and that their lives, 
liberty, and property would be protected by constitutional guar¬ 
anties similar to those which existed in the republic they had 
left. Under a government thus organized, they continued until 
the year 1835, when a military revolution broke out in the city 
of Mexico, which entirely subverted the Federal and State con¬ 
stitutions, and placed a military dictator at the head of the gov¬ 
ernment. 

The people of Texas were unwilling to submit to this usurpar 
tion. Resistance to such tyranny became a high duty. The 
people of Texas flew to arms. They elected members to a con¬ 
vention, who, in the month of March, 1836, issued a formal decla¬ 
ration, that their ^ political connection with the Mexican nation has 
forever ended, and that the people of Texas do now constitute a 
free, sovereign, and independent republic.’ ” 

He then gives an account of the unsuccessful attempts of 
Mexico, by her armies, to conquer and reclaim her lost territory. 

Upon this plain statement of facts,” he continues, “ it is absurd 
for Mexico to allege that Texas is still a part of her territory.” 

“ But there are those,” he adds, who, conceding all this to be 
true, assume the ground, that the true western boundary of Texas 
is the Nueces, instead of the Rio Grande ; and that, therefore, in 
marching our army to the east bank of the latter river, we passed 
the Texan line, and invaded the territory of Mexico.” His expla¬ 
nation of this is too long and labored to be inserted here. The 
substance is, that the Texans claimed the Rio Grande as their 
boundary; that they had conquered it by the sword; that, as 
conquerors, they had a right to it; and that the United-States 
Government, having annexed Texas to the Union, was under 
every moral obligation to defend the boundaries which the Texans 
claimed. 

This defence of the policy of the Government in the affairs 
relative to Texas and Mexico gives one a very just idea of the 
character of Mr. Polk’s mind, and of the peculiarity of his abilities. 
The arguments he presents are plausible, rather than convincing. 


JAMES KNOX POLK. 


297 


One can scarcely conceive of such a document coming from the 
pen of Jefferson or of Webster. 

On the 3d of March, 1849, Mr. Polk retired from office, having 
served one term. The next day was Sunday. On the 5th, Gen. 
Taylor was inaugurated as his successor. Mr. Polk rode to the 
Capitol in the same carriage with Gen. Taylor; and the same even¬ 
ing, with Mrs. Polk, he commenced his return to Tennessee. Very 
enthusiastic demonstrations of regard met him as he journeyed 
through the Southern States. At Wilmington, Charleston, Sa¬ 
vannah, and New Orleans, he was honored with splendid ovations. 
He had previously purchased a beautiful mansion in the heart of 
the city of Nashville. 

He was then but fifty-four years of age. He had ever been 
strictly temperate in his habits, and his health was good. With 
an ample fortune, a choice library, a cultivated mind, and domestic 
ties of the dearest nature, it seemed as though long years of tran¬ 
quillity and happiness were before him. But the cholera — that 
fearful scourge — was then sweeping up the Valley of the Missis¬ 
sippi. President Polk steamed up the river from New Oideans. 
On board the boat, he perceived the premonitory symptoms of the 
dread disease. When he reached his home, his system was much 
debilitated. A personal friend gives the following a-ccount of his 
last hours: — 

“ Having reached Nashville, he gave himself up to the improve¬ 
ment of his grounds, and was seen every day about his dwelling, 
aiding and directing the workmen he had employed, — now over¬ 
looking a carpenter, now giving instructions to a gardener, often 
attended by Mrs. Polk, whose exquisite taste constituted the 
element of every improvement. It is not a fortnight since I saw 
him on the lawn, directing some men who were removing decaying 
cedars. I was struck with his erect and healthful bearing, and 
the active energy of his manner, which gave promise of long life. 
His flowing gray locks alone made him appear beyond the middle 
age of life. He seemed in full health. The next day being rainy, 
he remained within, and began to arrange his large library. The 
labor of reaching books from the floor, and placing them on the 
shelves, brought on fatigue and slight fever, which, the next day, 
assumed the character of disease in the form of chronic diarrhoea. 

^^For the first three days, his friends felt no alarm; but, the 
disease baffling the skill of his physicians, Dr. Hay, his brother-in- 
88 


298 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


law, and family physician for twenty years, was sent for from Co¬ 
lumbia. But the skill and experience of this gentleman, aided by 
the highest medical talent, proved of no avail. Mr. Polk continued 
gradually to sink from day to day. The disease was checked 
upon him four days before his death; but his constitution was so 
weakened, that there did not remain recuperative energy enough 
in the system for healthy re-action. He sank away so slowly and 
insensibly, that the heavy death-respirations commenced eight 
hours before he died. He died without a struggle, simply ceasing 
to breathe, as when deep and quiet sleep falls upon a weary man. 
About half an hour preceding his death, his venerable mother en¬ 
tered the room, and offered up a beautiful prayer to the. King of 
kings and Lord of lords, committing the soul of her son to his 
holy ke.eping.’’ 

His death occurred on the 15th of June, 1849, in the fifty-fourth 
year of his age. His funeral was attended the following day, in 
Nashville, with every^ demonstration of respect. He left no chil¬ 
dren. As death drew near, he felt, as thousands of others have 
done, the need of the supports of Christianity, and, in that eleventh 
hour, received the rite of baptism at the hands of a Methodist 
clergyman. 


CHAPTER XII. 


ZACHARY TAYLOR. 


Birth. — Emigration to Kentucky. — Neglected Education. — Enters the Army. — Life on 
tlie Frontier.— Battles with the Indians. — Campaign in Florida. — The Mexican War. 
— Palo Alto. — Resaca de la Palma. — Monterey. — Buena Vista. — Nominated for the 
Presidency. — Sufferings. — Death. 


Zachary Taylor, the twelfth President of the United States, 
was born on the 24th of November, 1784, in Orange County, Va. 



RESIDENCE OF ZACHARY TAYLOR. 


His father, Col. Richard Taylor, was a Virginian of note, and a dis¬ 
tinguished patriot and soldier of the Revolution. When Zachary 
was an infant, his father, with his wife and two other children, 
emigrated to Kentucky, where he settled in the pathless wilder- 

299 





















300 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


ness, a few miles out from the present city of Louisville. He v/as 
one of the first settlers of that region; and as such, when the pop¬ 
ulation increased, was honored with many responsible trusts. 

In this rude frontier-home, far away from civilization and all 
its refinements, young Zachary could enjoy but few social or edu¬ 
cational advantages. When six years of age, he attended a com¬ 
mon school, and was then regarded as a bright, active boy, rather 
remarkable for bluntness, and decision of character. He was 
strong, fearless, and self-reliant, and manifested an eager desire to 
enter the army to fight the Indians who were ravaging the fron¬ 
tiers. There is little to be recorded of the uneventful years of 
his childhood on his father’s large but lonely plantation. In 1808, 
his father succeeded in obtaining for him the commission of lieu¬ 
tenant in the United-States army; and he joined the troops which 
were stationed at New Orleans under G-en. Wilkinson. Soon 
after this, he married Miss Margaret Smith, a young lady from one 
of the first families in Maryland. 

Our relations with England were, at this time, becoming very 
threatening; and we were upon the eve of our second war with 
that power. The English officials in Canada were doing their 
utmost to rouse the Indians against us. Immediately after the 
declaration of war in 1812, Capt. Taylor (for he had then been 
promoted to that rank) was put in command of Fort Harrison, on 
the Wabash, about fifty miles above Vincennes. This fort had 
been built in the wilderness by Gen. Harrison, on his march to 
Tippecanoe. It was one of the first points of attack by the 
Indians, led by Tecumseh. The works consisted simply of a row 
of log-huts for soldiers’ barracks, with a strong block-house at 
each end. These buildings occupied one side of a square, the 
other three sides of which were composed of rows of high pickets. 
Its garrison consisted of a broken company of infantry, number¬ 
ing fifty men, many of whom were sick. 

Early in the autumn of 1812, the Indians, stealthily, and in large 
numbers, moved upon the fort. Their approach was first indi¬ 
cated by the murder of two soldiers just outside of-the stockade. 
Capt. Taylor made every possible preparation to meet the an¬ 
ticipated assault; On the 4th of September, a baud of about forty 
painted and plumed savages came to the fort, waiving a white 
flag, and informed Capt. Taylor, that, in the morning, their chief 
would come to have a talk with him. It was evident that their 


ZACHARY TAYLOR. 


301 


object was merely to ascertain the state of things at the fort; and 
Capt. Taylor, well versed in the wiles of the savages, kept them 
at a distance. 

The sun went down; the savages disappeared; the garrison 
slept upon their arms. One hour before midnight, the war-whoop 
burst from a thousand lips in the forest around, followed by the 
discharge of musketry, and the rush of the foe. Every man, sick 
and well, sprang to his post. Every man knew that defeat was not 
merely death, but, in case of capture, death by the most agonizing 
and prolonged torture. No pen can describe, no imagination can 
conceive, the scene which ensued. The savages succeeded in 
setting fire to one of the block-houses. There was a large amount 
of whiskey stored in the building; and the sheets of flame, flash¬ 
ing to the clouds, lit up the whole landscape with lurid brilliancy. 
The forest, the dancing savages, the yells of the assailants, the 
crackling and glare of the fire, the yelping of the dogs, the shrieks 
of the women (for there were several in the fort), who had become 
almost frantic with terror, the shouts of command, the incessant 
rattle of musketry,—all created a scene of terror which caused the 
stoutest heart to quail. Of course, no one thought of surrender. 
It was far better to perish by the bullet or the fire than to fall 
into the hands of the foe. Until six o’clock in the morning, this 
awful conflict continued. The savages then, baffled at every 
point, and gnashing their teeth with rage, retired. Capt. Taylor, 
for this gallant defence, was promoted to the rank of major by 
brevet. 

Until the termination of the war. Major Taylor was placed in 
such situations, that he saw but little more of active service. 
When the army was reduced at the close of the war, the military 
board retained him, but assigned to him only the rank of captain. 
Not relishing this arrangement. Major Taylor resigned his com¬ 
mission, and returned to the peaceful pursuits of agricultural life 
on his plantation. Sooii, however, the influence of friends regained 
for him his rank of major; and, returning to the army, he was sent 
far away into the depths of the wilderness, to Fort Crawford, on 
Fox River, which empties into Green Bay. Here there was but 
little to be done but to wear away the tedious hours as one best 
could. There were no books, no society, no intellectual stimulus. 
Thus with him the uneventful years rolled on. Gradually he rose 
to the rank of colonel. In the Black-Hawk War, which resulted 


802 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


in the capture of that renowned chieftain, Col. Taylor took a sub¬ 
ordinate but a brave and efficient part. 

It is related of Col. Taylor, that, while engaged in this war, he 
was at one time pursuing Black Hawk with his Indian band, when 
they came to Rock River, which was then understood to be the 
north-west boundary of the State of Illinois. He had under his 
command a pretty large force of volunteers and a few regulars. 
The volunteers openly declared that they would not -cross the 
river, as they had enlisted only for the defence of the State ; and 
that they were not bound to march beyond the frontier into the 
Indian country. Col. Taylor, inclining to the same opinion, en¬ 
camped upon the banks of the stream; But, during the night, 
orders came for him to follow up Black Hawk to the last extrem¬ 
ity. The soldiers, hearing of this, assembled on the prairie, in a 
sort of town-meeting, to deliberate respecting what they should 
do. Col. Taylor was invited to attend. He was a man of few 
words, but had already attained some celebrity for his decisive 
actions. 

Very quietly, for a time, he listened to their proceedings. At 
length, it came his turn to speak. Gentlemen and fellow-citi¬ 
zens,” said he, “ the word has been passed on to me from Wash¬ 
ington to follow Black Hawk, and to take you with me as soldiers. 
I mean to do both. There are the flat-boats drawn up on the 
shore; here are Uncle Sam’s men drawn up behind you on the 
prairie.” 

There was no resisting this argument. In a few hours, they 
were all across the river, in hot pursuit of the foe. For twenty- 
four years. Col. Taylor was engaged in the defence of the fron¬ 
tiers, in scenes so remote, and in employments so obscure, that 
his name was unknown beyond the limits of his own immediate 
acquaintance. In the year 1836, he was sent to Florida to com¬ 
pel the Seminole Indians to vacate that region, and retire bej^ond 
the Mississippi, as their chiefs, by treaty, had promised they should 
do. The great mass of the Indians, denying the right of a few 
chiefs to sell the hunting-grounds of their fathers, refused to emi¬ 
grate : hence the war. Col. Taylor was sent to capture or destroy 
them, wherever they might be found. 

But little lasting fame can be acquired in fighting undisciplined 
savages. And still the American Indians were so brave and so 
cunning, appearing at this moment like a pack of howling wolves 


ZACHARY TAYLOR. 


303 


in o;ie spot, and the next moment dispersed, no one could tell 
where, that it required military qualities of a very high char¬ 
acter successfully to contend with them. War,” says Napoleon, 
is the science of barbarians.” Indian warfare has ever been 
found a very good school in which to acquire the rudiments of that 
science. It requires constant vigilance, prompt action, patience, 
versatility of talent, to meet every emergency, and courage of the 
highest order to face death in its most appalling form. 

The war with the Seminoles was long, bloody, and inglorious; 
and, with many of the American people, it was considered as, on 
the part of our Government, very urjust. Early in the winter of 
1837, Col. Taylor, with a small army of about one thousand men, 
commenced a march into the interior to assail a large body of 
Seminole warriors who were encamped upon the banks of the 
great inland lake, Okeechobee. Their path, of one hundred and 
fifty miles, led through an unexplored wilderness, intersected by 
rivers, vast forests of oak and pine, and immense morasses of 
gloomy cypress-trees, with almost impenetrable underbrush, and 
interlacings of vines and pendent moss. There was no path 
through these vast solitudes, and no food could be gathered on’ 
the way for either man or beast. 

Upon the northern shore of this lake there was a swamp, in the 
midst of whose recesses a small island was found. Here seven 
hundred Seminole warriors, having learned through their runners 
of the advance of the white man, had stationed themselves to give 
battle. They were well armed with rifles, and were unerring in 
their aim. Every man of them stood behind his protecting tree; 
and rarely has warfare presented greater peril than the men were 
exposed to in wading through that swamp in the face of such a foe. 
The Indians, nimble as deer, could vanish in an hour; and weeks 
and months might elapse before they could again be found. 
Under these circumstances. Col. Taylor made no reconnoissance, 
but fell instantly and impetuously upon them. 

It was necessary to cross the swamp, three-quarters of a mile in 
breadth, through mud and water knee-deep, impeded by brush and 
weeds, and tall, coarse, wiry grass, before they could reach the 
island or hummock where the foe was stationed. As soon as 
Taylor’s advance came within musket-shot, the Indians poured in 
upon them such a deadly fire, that the troops broke, and fled in a 
panic which nothing could check. A second line advanced more 


304 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


cautiously, seeking such protection as the ground could afford, 
and keeping up a constant discharge of musketry: but the 
Indians, from their thicket, concentrated upon them such well- 
aimed shot, that, in a few minutes, every officer was struck down; 
and, in one company, but four men were left untouched. 

In the mean time, other parties, by other approaches, had gained 
the hummock; and the Indians broke and fled. For three hours, 
this battle was fought with the utmost desperation on both sides; 
but the rout was complete. The Seminoles lost so large a num¬ 
ber of their warriors, that they never ventured to give battle 
again. Their forces were afterwards divided into marauding 
bands, who gradually, crushed in spirit, surrendered, and were 
removed to the lands allotted to them beyond the Mississippi. 
Gen. Taylor lost, in killed, about thirty, including many of his 
most valuable officers. One hundred and twelve were wounded. 
These unhappy men were carried across the country, to Tampa 
Bay, on litters roughly constructed of poles and hides. This sig¬ 
nal victory secured for Col. Taylor the high appreciation of the 
Government ,* and, as a reward, he was elevated to the rank of brig¬ 
adier-general by brevet; and soon after, in May, 1838, was ap¬ 
pointed to the chief command of the United-States troops in 
Florida. Broken bands of Indians, in a high state of exasperation, 
were for a long time wandering through the country, requiring 
the most strenuous exertions on the part of Col. Taylor to protect 
the scattered inhabitants. 

Gen. Taylor, in his official account of the battle of Okeechobee, 
says, “ The action was a severe one, and continued from half-past 
twelve until after three in the afternoon; a part of the time, very 
close and severe. We suffered much. The hostiles probably 
suffered, all things considered, equally with ourselves; they hav¬ 
ing left ten on the ground, besides, doubtless, carrying off many 
more, as is customary with them when practicable. 

“ As soon as the enemy were completely broken, I turned my 
attention to taking care of the wounded, to facilitate their removal 
to my baggage, where I ordered an encampment to be formed. I 
directed Capt. Taylor to cross over to the spot, and employ 
every individual whom he might find there, in constructing a 
small footway across the swamp. This, with great exertions, was 
completed in a short time after dark; when all the dead and 
wounded were carried over in litters made for that purpose, with 


ZACHARY TAYLOR. 


305 


one exception, — a private of the Fourth Infantry, who was killed, 
and could not be found. 

And here, I trust, I may be permitted to say, that I expe¬ 
rienced one of the most trying scenes of my life. And he who 
could have looked on it with indifference, his nerves must have 
been very differently organized from my own. Besides the 
killed, there lay one hundred and twelve wounded officers and 
soldiers, who had accompanied me one hundred and forty-five 
miles, most of the way through an unexplored wilderness, with¬ 
out guides; who had so gallantly beaten the enemy, under my 
orders, in his strongest position; and who had to be conveyed back 
through swamps and hummocks from whence we set out, without 
any apparent means of doing so. 

This service, however, was encountered and overcome; and 
they have been conveyed thus far, and proceeded on to Tampa 
Bay, on rude litters constructed with the axe and knife alone, with 
poles and dry hides ; the latter being found in great abundance at 
the encampment of the hostiles. The litters were conveyed on 
the backs of our weak and tottering horses, aided by the residue 
of the command, with more ease and comfort than I could have 
supposed, and with as much as they could have been in ambu¬ 
lances of the most improved and modern construction. 

This column, in six weeks, penetrated one hundred and fifty 
miles into the enemy’s country; opened roads, and constructed 
bridges and causeways, when necessary, on the greater portion of 
the route; established two depots, and the necessary defences for 
the same; and, finally, overtook and beat the enemy in his strongest 
position. The results of which movements and battle havo been 
the capture of thirty of the hostiles; the coming-in and surrender¬ 
ing of more than one hundred and fifty Indians and negroes, 
mostly, of the former, including the chiefs, Oulatoochee, Tusta- 
Quggee, and other principal men; the capturing, and driving 
out of the country, six hundred head of cattle, upwards of one 
hundred head of horses, besides obtaining a thorough knowledge 
of the country through which we operated, a greater portion of 
which was entirely unknown except to the enemy.” 

After two years of such wearisome employment amidst the ever¬ 
glades of the peninsula, Gen. Taylor obtained, at his own request, a 
change of command, and was stationed over the Department of the 
South-west. This field embraced Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, 


306 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


and Georgia. Establishing his headquarters at Fort Jessup, in 
Louisiana, he removed his family to a plantation, which he pur¬ 
chased, near Baton Rouge. Here he remained for five years, 
buried, as it were, from the world, yet faithfully discharging every 
duty imposed upon him. 

It has been said that bayonets must not think. Gen. Taylor was 
an officer in the employment of the United-States Government, 
and, as such, was bound, as he supposed, to obey orders. In the 
spring of 1845, Congress passed a joint resolution for the annex¬ 
ation of Texas; and Gen. Taylor was directed to hold his troops in 
readiness for action on the Texan frontier. Into the question of 
the right or wrong of this annexation, we have no space to enter. 
Gen. Taylor’s position was, however, embarrassing,, as it appeared 
to be the desire of the Government (James K. Polk having just 
entered upon the presidency) that Gen. Taylor should take steps 
to bring on a collision with Mexico, of which the Government 
wished to avoid the responsibility. He therefore declined acting 
upon his own responsibility, silently waiting for implicit instruc¬ 
tions. 

The River Nueces was claimed by Mexico to be the original 
western boundary of Texas; but Secretary Marcy, in his de¬ 
spatch to Gen. Taylor, indicated the Rio Grande, nearly two hun¬ 
dred miles farther west, or rather south, as the boundary-line to be 
defended. He was, however; not ordered, at first, to advance to 
the Rio Grande; though he was directed to cross the Nueces River, 
and establish his corps of observation at Corpus Christi, on the 
western bank of the river. In August, 1845, he took his position 
here, with fifteen hundred troops, which, in November, was in¬ 
creased by re-enforcements to four thousand. Although, when at 
Corpus Christi, he was on ground which the Mexicans claimed, so 
long as he remained there, there was apparently no danger of 
collision with the Mexican authorities. He disregarded all the 
hints which came to him from Washington for a farther advance 
westward, until March, 1846, when there came explicit orders for 
him to advance to the Rio Grande. He accordingly took up his 
line of march over the boundless prairies which Mexico claimed as 
her territory. At the distance of about one hundred miles, he 
came to the waters of the Colorado. Here he found a Mexican 
force drawn up upon the western bank, but altogether too feeble 
to attempt to dispute his passage. Still the Mexican commander 


ZACHARY TAYLOR. 


307 


sent a protest against what he regarded as the invasion of Mexico, 
and declared that the crossing of the Colorado would be regarded 
as a declaration of war. 

Gen. Taylor, assuming that he was simply bound to obey orders, 
paid no attention to the warning, and crossed the river in sight of 
the Mexican detachment, who peaceably withdrew. Continuing 
his march, he sent a detachment to occupy Point Isabel, on the 
banks of an inlet opening into the Gulf, which was easily accessi¬ 
ble by steamers, and had been fixed upon as the dep6t for army 
supplies. The main body of the army soon reached the Rio 
Grande, and commenced throwing up defensive works. Opposite 
them, upon the western bank, was the Mexican city of Matamoras. 
This invasion of their country, as the Mexicans deemed it, excited 



GEN. TAYLOR ON THE RIO GRANDE. 


great indignation. The Mexican commander, Gen. Ampudia, re¬ 
fused to hold any friendly intercourse with the Americans, and 
on the 12th of April, by orders from his Government, issued a 
summons to Gen. Taylor to return to the eastern bank of the 
Nueces, there to await the decision of the two Governments, who 











308 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


were discussing the question of the true boundaries of Texas. 
He added, that the refusal to do this must inevitably lead to war. 
Our Government evidently wished to provoke hostilities. Gen. 
Taylor replied, that, as he was acting in a purely military capacity, 
his instructions would not allow him to retire to the Nueces ; and 
that, if war were the only alternative, he accepted it with regret. 

Gen. Taylor wrote to the adjutant-general, April 6, 1846, ^^On 
our side, a battery for four eighteen-pounders will be completed, 
and the guns placed in battery, to-day. These guns bear directly 
upon the public square at Matamoras, and are within good range 
for demolishing the town. Their object cannot be mistaken by the 
enemy. 

President Polk did not regard this as a hostile measure which 
the Mexicans had any right to resist. In the mean time. Commo¬ 
dore Sloat was sent to the Pacific with seven ships of war and nearly 
three thousand men, with secret orders to seize and occupy San 
Francisco and other Mexican ports on the Pacific as soon as he 
should hear of the existence of war between Mexico and the United 
States. Accordingly, on the 7th of July, 1846, hearing of the vic« 
tories of Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma, he seized Monterey, in 
California, without resistance, and ‘‘annexed^’ California; announ¬ 
cing that ‘‘ henceforth California will be a portion of the United 
States.” 

The whole territory we wrested from Mexico is estimated to be 
as large as England, Ireland, Scotland, France, Spain, Portugal, 
Italy, and Germany combined. In CutPs Conquest of Califor¬ 
nia,” he relates the following anecdote : — 

Just as we were leaving camp to-day, an old Apache chief 
came in, and harangued the general thus : ‘ You have taken 
Santa Fe. Let us go on and take Chihuahua and Sonora. We 
will go with you. You fight for the soil; we fight for plunder: 
so we will agree perfectly. These people are bad Christians: 
let us give them a good thrashing.’ ” 

This interview between Gen. Kearney and the Indian warrior 
reminds one of the ancient anecdote of Alexander and the pirate. 

The two armed forces upon the Matamoras remained in the 
presence of each other for a month. For more than two miles 
along each bank of the river, antagonistic batteries were facing 
each other, the guns shotted, and the artillery-men on both sides 
impatient for the order to fire. The situation naturally gave rise 


ZACHARY TAYLOR. 


309 


to many causes of irritation on both sides. Brazos Santiago, the 
port of Matamoras, was blockaded by order of Gen. Taylor; and 
two sepply-ships for the Mexican army were ordered off the harbor. 
No one could deny that this was a hostile act. The deputy quar¬ 
termaster of the American troops was murdered a short distance 
from camp. A small party of United-States soldiers, in pursuit of 
the murderers, fell upon a band of Mexicans, fired upon them, and 
put them to fiight, taking possession of their camp. On their 
return, they were fired upon by another Mexican party, and one 
of their oflScers was killed. Thus, gradually, hostilities were in¬ 
augurated. A Mexican force crossed the Rio Grande above Mat¬ 
amoras. A squadron of United-States dragoons, sent to watch 
their movements, was attacked by the Mexicans, and, after the 
loss of ten men killed, was captured. 

Point Isabel, which, as we have mentioned, was about twelve 
miles from Matamoras, was threatened by a force of fifteen hun¬ 
dred Mexicans; and Gen. Taylor’s connection with his dep6t of 
supplies was cut off. In order to open his communications, he 
left a garrison at Fort Brown, as his works opposite Matamoras 
were called, and, with the remainder of his army, set out on the 
1st of May for Point Isabel. Immediately after his departure, 
the Mexicans opened fire upon Fort Brown from a battery on 
the western side of the river. The hostile battery was soon 
silenced ; but, after the lapse of a day, another and more formida¬ 
ble assault was made, the Mexicans having crossed the river, so 
as to attack the fort both in front and rear. After a spirited bom¬ 
bardment on both sides, night closed the conflict. In the night, 
by firing his eighteen-pounders at stated intervals. Major Brown, 
who was in command, signalled Gen. Taylor that he was sur¬ 
rounded. The next morning, the Mexicans resumed the assault. 
Their shells fell with such accuracy into the camp, that the gar¬ 
rison was driven into the bomb-proofs. Major Brown was mortally 
wounded. The command devolved upon Capt. Hawkins. He 
refused the summons to surrender, and endured the terrible bom¬ 
bardment until night again closed the scene. It was the 6th of 
May. 

In the mean time, Gen. Taylor, having learned that the Mexi¬ 
cans had crossed the river with six thousand men, and that Fort 
Brown was surrounded and in great peril, commenced vigorously 
retracing his steps. The morning of the 8th dawned. The Mexi- 


310 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


cans opened again their bombardment with new vigor and hope. 
The thunders of the cannonade floated over the vast prairies, and 
fell heavily upon the ears of the host advancing to the rescue of 
their comrades. About noon, Taylor’s force encountered the 
Mexicans. Their appearance was very imposing, as three thou¬ 
sand men—infantry, cavalry, and artillery, with waving banners 
and gleaming armor — were drawn up on the broad prairie, in a 
line nearly a mile in length. Their right rested upon a dense 
thicket of chaparral, and their left was protected by a swamp. 
They had eleven field-pieces in position. 

Gen. Taylor had about twenty-two hundred men; and was, on 
the whole, superior to the Mexicans in artillery, as he had ten 
guns, two of which were eighteen-pounders. He drew up his 
army in battle-array, about half .a mile distant from the Mexicans. 
The field of Palo Alto, upon which these hostile armies were thus 
arrayed, was a vast plain, with nothing to obstruct the view. 
When both armies were ready, they stood for twenty minutes 
looking at each other, each hesitating to begin the work of 
death. At length a white puff of smoke burst from one of the 
Mexican guns, and a cannon-ball whistled over the heads of 
the American troops. This opened the battle. It was mainly an 
artillery contest on both sides. Gen. Taylor was not a tactician: 
he was simply a stern, straightforward, indomitable fighter. 
The combatants kept at quite a distance from each other, throw¬ 
ing their shot and shell often more than three-quarters of a mile. 
Thus the battle raged for five hours, each army being exposed 
to every shot of its antagonist. The superior skill of the Ameri¬ 
can gunners, and our heavier weight of metal, gave us the ad¬ 
vantage ; and the loss was far greater on the Mexican side than 
on ours. The prairie-grass took fire, and sheets of flame rolled 
along ten feet high. Immense clouds of smoke enveloped the 
contending hos Round-shot, grape, and shells tore through 
the Mexican ranks with great slaughter. Our infantry, generall}", 
threw themselves upon the ground; and most of the enemy’s shot 
either fell short, or passed over their heads. Only four Americans 
were killed, and thirty-two wounded. The Mexican loss was two 
hundred and sixty-two. 

When night came, and closed the conflict, neither party knew 
the effect of the cannonade upon the other. The Mexicans, how¬ 
ever, confessed to a defeat, by retiring, under protection of the 


ZACHARY TAYLOR. 


311 


darkness, to a new position some few miles in their rear. The 
little garrison at Fort Brown, while repelling the assault which 
was made upon them, listened with intense anxiety to the boom¬ 
ing of the cannon on the field of Palo Alto. Should Gen. Taylor 
be cut off or driven back, the doom of the garrison was sealed. 

The next morning, Gen. Taylor, finding that the enemy had 
disappeared, moved forward to the ground which the Mexicans 
had occupied. They had left behind them their dead, and many 
of their wounded. He pressed on in pursuit, and soon found 
them, at the distance of but about three miles from Fort Br^wn, 
formidably posted in a ravine called Besaca de la Palma. Scat¬ 
tered around were dense thickets of dwarf-oaks, almost impene¬ 
trable. Here the Mexican general. Arista, had so advantageously 
posted his forces, that it required desperate valor to break 
through. Again there was a battle. It commenced with artil¬ 
lery, and was followed up with infantry and cavalry. Several 
charges of great impetuosity were made. The Mexicans fought 
with great bravery and with disciplined valor. There was but 
little room for generalship. It was simply hard fighting. The 
forces were not far from equal on both sides ; but the American 
soldiers, far more intelligent than their foes, fired with much 
more rapidity and with surer aim, and their victory was com¬ 
plete. Soon the whole Mexican line was seen on the retreat, 
having lost a thousand of their number in killed, wounded, and 
missing. The American loss did not exceed a hundred and fifty. 
The enemy fled across the river, hotly pursued. Enthusiastic 
were the cheers of the little band in Fort Brown as they saw the 
stars and stripes advancing so gloriously to their rescue. 

The tidings of these victories aroused to an astonishing degree 
the martial spirit of the country. War was now thoroughly 
inaugurated. Those who had brought it on were well pleased. 
“ Palo Alto and “ Kesaca de la Palma ’’ rang through the land 
as among the most glorious victories which had ever been 
achieved. ‘‘ On to the halls of the Montezumas ! ” was the cry; 
and the few and feeble voices of remonstrance were drowned in 
the exultant shout. Congress authorized the President to accept 
fifty thousand volunteers. The rank of major-general by brevet 
was conferred on Gen. Taylor. Congressional resolutions com¬ 
plimented him, and the legislatures of several States lavished 
upon him their honors. Tliese flattering testimonials were re- 


312 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


ceived by Gen. Taylor with that unaffected simplicity which was 
one of his chief characteristics, and which was manifest in all 
the habits of his life. Though a strict disciplinarian, he could 
scarcely be distinguished, in his own personal appearance and 
dress, from any common farmer. These habits secured for him 
among his troops the soubriquet of Old Rough and Ready.” 

An incident, which occurred soon after the victories just re¬ 
corded, amusingly illustrates these traits in his character. After 
the relief of Fort Brown, Gen. Taylor prepared to follow up his 
victories by the bombardment of Matamoras. Accordingly, he 
went to Point Isabel to arrange for the co-operation of the navy. 
Commodore Conner, commanding in the Gulf, was- as famed for 
particularity in dress as the general was for negligence in that 
respect. The commodore sent word that he would pay the 
general a visit of ceremony. This announcement caused much 
agitation in the mind of the kind-hearted officer. Without 
embarrassment, he could have welcomed his guest with a hearty 
grip of the hand to a seat on the camp-chest, and to a familiar 
talk over their plans; but that the most carefully-dressed officer 
in the navy, in command of its finest fleet, should pay him a visit 
of ceremony, in full uniform, and surrounded by all the retinue 
and equipments becoming his rank, was an anticipation almost 
too great for nerves that scarcely trembled in battle. The gene¬ 
ral, however, decided to receive the commodore, dressed in full 
uniform, — a sight that his officers, who had been associated with 
him for years, had never witnessed. Meanwhile Commodore Con¬ 
ner, quite unconscious of the flutter he had caused in the generaPs 
bosom, with the good sense of a gallant and accomplished gentle¬ 
man, prepared for his interview with the plain old general, whose 
habits were well known to him. 

At the time appointed, habited in plain white drilling, he came 
ashore, without any parade or any attendants. As soon as it was 
reported to Gen. Taylor that his visitor had landed, he hastened 
from some heavy work which he was superintending, rushed into 
his tent, brought from the bottom of his chest a uniform-coat that 
for years had been undisturbed, arrayed himself in it, with its 
standing-collar raised on one side three vacant button-holes above 
its legitimate height, and, in a very uncomfortable manner, seated 
himself for the reception. Commodore Conner quietly entered the 
tent of the commander-in-chief The distinguished representatives 


ZACHARY TAYLOR. 


313 


of the army and navy shook hands in mutual astonishment at each 
other^s personal appearance. It is said, that, after that interview, 
Gen. Taylor took to linen roundabouts, of the largest dimensions, 
with more pertinacity than ever. It matters little whether this 
story be accurately true or not: it illustrates the character of 
the man. 

Another amusing anecdote has been told illustrative of this 
trait of extreme simplicity, and disregard of the ordinary courte¬ 
sies of life, in the character of Gen. Taylor. A gentleman who 
had been connected with the army, and was attached to the same 
regiment with Taylor, and had been intimately acquainted with 
him, visited Fort Jessup, in Louisiana, while the general was 
stationed in command at that post. He had not seen his old friend 
for some time, and was quite disappointed to learn that he was a 
hundred miles distant, attending a court-martial. 

One day, the gentleman was walking out from the fort in a 
morning ramble, when he met an old country codger,’^ jogging 
along towards the camp, on a donkey. They exchanged saluta¬ 
tions, according to the custom in those remote solitudes. But 
the figure of the donkey-rider, on his diminutive beast, was so 
comical, that the gentleman could not refrain from turning round, 
and gazing at him after he had passed. He was dressed in a 
coarse bombazine frock-coat and drab trousers. The bottoms of 
his trousers were tucked under his coarse, spattered boots. A 
black cravat was tied loosely round his neck. He had on a very 
coarse straw hat, whose broad brim, as he trotted along, fiapped 
up and down; while, from beneath, long, uncombed hair fluttered 
in the breeze. 

The gentleman continued his walk, and, upon returning to the 
fort, was cordially greeted by this comical-looking donkey-rider, 
who, to his surprise, he found to be his old friend, Gen. Taylor 
In passing, neither had recognized the other. 

On the 18th of May, Gen. Taylor, having obtained pontoons, 
crossed the Rio Grande unopposed, both above and below Mata- 
moras, and took possession of the city. The request from Gen. 
Arista, for a suspension of hostilities until the terms of boundary 
could be amicably arranged by the two Governments, was posi 
tively refused. For three months, Gen. Taylor remained at Mata- 
moras. This was with him a period of great anxiety. His 
victories had excited unbounded enthusiasm, and both govern- 

40 


314 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


merit and people seemed to expect that he would sweep imme¬ 
diately and resistlessly on to the city of Mexico; but this 
required a march of more than five hundred miles, intersected by 
rivers easily defended, and mountain-ranges, in whose narrow 
defiles a small band could resist a host. 

President Polk, in transmitting to Gen. Taylor his commission 
of major-general by brevet, wrote to him as follows: It gave 
me sincere pleasure, immediately upon receipt of official intelli¬ 
gence from the scene of your achievements, to confer upon you, 
by and with the advice and consent of the Senate, this testimonial 
of the estimate which your Government places upon your skill and 
gallantry. To yourself, and the brave officers and soldiers under 
your command, the gratitude of the country is justly due. Our 
army have fully sustained their deservedly high reputation, and 
added another bright page to the history of American valor and 
patriotism. They have won new laurels for themselves and for 
their country. 

The battles of Palo Alto and Pesaca de la Palma rank among 
our most brilliant victories, and will long be remembered by the 
American people. When all the details of those battles, and of 
the noble defence of the camp opposite to Matamoras, shall have 
been received, it will be my pleasure, as it will be my grateful 
duty, to render to the officers and men under your command 
suitable testimonials for their conduct in the brilliant victories 
which a superintending Providence has, enabled them to achieve 
for their country.’^ 

It was Gen. Taylor’s intention to make Camargo, which was 
one huiidred and forty miles farther up the river, his base of 
operations in the now contemplated invasion of Mexico. Camargo 
was nearer to Monterey, his next point of attack. He was, how¬ 
ever, delayed for some time by the non-arrival of re-enforcements, 
and by his want of means of transportation. This delay gave the 
Mexicans time to recover from their panic, and to make prepara¬ 
tions for a vigorous resistance. At length, the latter part of July, 
the army was put in motion. Sixteen hundred mules had been 
obtained for the transportation. The country through which they 
marched had long been infested by banditti; and large numbers 
of crosses were passed, which had been reared by the friends of 
murdered travellers at the places where they had been slain. 
These crosses were of wood, about four feet high; some of recent 


ZACHARY TAYLOR, 


315 


construction, and others hoary, and mossy with age. A brief in¬ 
scription generally told the story. At one place, there was quite 
a cluster of these crosses, in commemoration of a company of men, 
women, and children, who, on a pleasure-party to Matamoras, were 
met by a band of savages, and all slain. Irreverently our troops 
tore down these crosses, and used them for fire-wood. Camargo 
was reached without opposition; and here another delay occurred, 
of six weeks. 

Early in September, the troops again took up their line of march 
for Monterey. In the distance, there rose sublimely before them 
the majestic peaks of the mountains, cutting their outlines against 
the clear sky like huge masses of indigo.’^ It was generally sup¬ 
posed that the Mexicans would not make any stand at Monterey, 
and Gen. Taylor was of this opinion. Soon, however, the indica¬ 
tions began to multiply that there was trouble to be encountered 
ahead. The Mexican muleteers shrugged their shoulders omi¬ 
nously. At Marin, a very intelligent, honest-looking Mexican was 
asked if there would be much fighting. Yes, sir,’’ he replied 
very decidedly : “ there will be much fighting, and many deaths.” 

When they reached Seralvo, Mexican cavalry began to appear, 
hovering in front and upon their flanks, watching every move¬ 
ment. At the village of Ramas, quite a skirmish ensued. On the 
19th of September, the army reached the outskirts of Monterey, 
and encamped at the Walnut Springs, three miles distant from the 
city, which was beautifully situated in the Valley of the San Juan 
River, and was surrounded by the lofty ridges of the Sierrt. Madre. 
Gen. Taylor was so much deceived, that, two days before, he 
wrote to the War Department, — 

“ It is even doubtful whether Gen. Ampudia will attempt to 
hold Monterey. His regular force is small, say three thousand, 
eked out, perhaps, to six thousand by volunteers, many of them 
forced.” 

Instead of this, there was found in Monterey a garrison of ten 
thousand soldiers, seven thousand of whom were regular troops. 
Gen. Taylor had under his command six thousand two hundred 
and twenty. 

The next day after our arrival, Sunday the 20th, the enemy’s 
works were carefully reconnoitred. Gen. Worth was then or¬ 
dered to make a detour to the west of the city, and attack in that 
direction, and carry the works if possible. To aid him in this 


316 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


endeavor, Gen. Taylor was to make a demonstration on the east. 
The Mexicans were vigilant, and watched every movement. 
Promptly they threw out re-enforcements to strengthen their 
western lines. To divert their attention, Gen. Taylor displayed 
a large force on the east, and, under cover of the darkness of the 
night, erected a battery of two twenty-four-pounder howitzers, a 
ten-inch mortar, and four light field-batteries of four guns each. 
In the night, Gen. Worth reached the Saltillo Road, and occupied 
a position just out of the range of the Mexican guns. 

Early on the morning of Monday, the 21st, Gen. Taylor received 
a despatch from Gen. Worth, dated nine o’clock the evening 
before, announcing the success of his movement, and urging a 
strong assault, in his support, upon the eastern portion of the 
town. About ten o’clock, as these troops were approaching the 
eastern walls, they were opened upon from masked batteries, with 
such a storm of iron, that they quailed before it. Gens. Taylor 
and Twiggs were both upon the ground. The troops were thrown 
into confusion; but the indomitable spirit of Gen. Taylor rallied 
them, and, by an impetuous charge, they captured one fort and an 
old fortified block-house. Still the scene of confusion was dread¬ 
ful. Many lives had been lost. Gen. Taylor was in the midst of 
the meleCy laboring under the most intense excitement. 

As night approached, a little order was evolved from the chaos. 
Garland’s brigade held the captured works, and the rest of the 
troops were sent back to camp. At sunset, it began to rain. One 
of the soldiers writes, — 

“ That was one of the most miserable nights I ever passed. We 
had had nothing to eat since the evening before. We had been 
out all night, and had been fighting all day; nor was it until the 
next afternoon — making in all about forty-eight hours under 
arms — that we had even a morsel, except some sugar that had 
been trampled under foot.” 

The next day, Tuesday, the 22d, the assault was not renewed. 
Its hours were mainly devoted to the sad duty of taking care of 
the wounded, and burying the dead. The enemy kept up a vigor¬ 
ous fire upon an}^ of our troops who came within range. Gen. 
Worth’s division, however, upon the other side of the city, after 
very hard fighting, succeeded in carrying the Bishop’s Palace, and 
turned its guns upon the fugitive garrison. Gen. Taylor, having 
ascertained the fact of this decisive success, felt confident that the 
Mexicans could not long hold possession of the town. 


ZACHARY TAYLOR. 


317 


During the night, the enemy evacuated nearly all his defences 
on the eastern part of the city, to strengthen those points now so 
seriously menaced on the west by Gen. Worth. This was reported 
early in the morning to Gen. Taylor. He says in his report,— 

I immediately sent instructions to that officer, leaving it to his 
discretion, to enter the city, covering his men by the houses and 
walls, and to advance as far as he might deem prudent. After or¬ 
dering the remainder of the troops as a reserve, under the orders of 
Gen. Twiggs, I repaired to the abandoned works, and discovered 
that a portion of Gen. Quitman’s brigade had entered the town, 
and were successfully working their way towards the principal 
plaza. I then ordered up the Second Regiment of Texas mounted 
volunteers, who entered the city, dismounted, and, under the imme¬ 
diate orders of Gen. Henderson, co-operated with Gen. Quitman’s 
brigade. Capt. Bragg’s battery was also ordered up, and sup¬ 
ported by the Third Infantry; and, after firing for some time at 
the cathedral, a portion of it was likewise thrown into the city. 

“ Our troops advanced from house to house, and from square to 
square, until they reached a street but one square in rear of the 
principal plaza, in and near which the enemy’s force was mainly 
concentrated. This advance was conducted vigorously, but with 
due caution, and, although destructive to the enemy, was attended 
with but small loss upon our part.” 

In the mean time, American batteries were throwing shot and 
shell into the city, until the fire endangered our own advancing 
troops. As Quitman’s brigade was exceedingly exhausted, and 
night was drawing on, Gen. Taylor ordered them to withdraw to 
the safer position of the evacuated works. This was done slowly, 
and in good order. At eleven o’clock at night, he received a note 
from Gen. Worth, stating that he had penetrated the city almost 
to the central plaza, and that a mortar which had been forwarded 
to his division in the morning was doing great execution. 

Early in the morning of Thursday, the 2Ith, Gen. Taylor re¬ 
ceived a despatch from the Mexican general, Ampudia, proposing 
to evacuate the town. This led to a cessation of fire until twelve 
o’clock. A personal interview took place between the two gen¬ 
erals, Taylor and Ampudia, which resulted in a capitulation. The 
town and its material of war were placed in possession of the vic¬ 
tor. The city was found to be very strongly fortified. Its well- 
constructed works were armed with forty-two pieces of cannon, 


318 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


and well supplied with ammunition. Our^ loss was very severe. 
Twelve officers and one hundred and eight men were killed. 
Thirty-one officers and three hundred and thirty-seven men were 
wounded. The loss of the enemy is not known; but it must have 
been dreadful, as our balls and shells tore through their streets 
and dwellings. 

An eye-witness thus describes the appearance, as our troops 
were in the distance storming one of the heights: Each flash 
looked like an electric spark. The flashes and the white smoke 
ascended the hillside as steadily as if worked by machinery. The 
dark space between the apex of the height and the curling smoke 
of the musketry grew less and less, until the whole became envel¬ 
oped in smoke, and we knew that our gallant troops had carried 
it. It was a glorious sight, and quite warmed our cold and chilled 
bodies.’’ 

Gen. Worth’s division had left camp with only two days’ ra¬ 
tions, and much of this was spoiled by the rain; yet they climbed 
these cliffs and charged these batteries for forty-eight hours, 
many of them without any food except raw corn. 

Gen. Taylor, consolidating his strength at Monterey, sent out 
divisions of his army to occupy important posts in the vicinit3^ 
Santa Anna was commander-in-chief of the Mexican armies. He 
collected twenty thousand men at San Luis Potosi, a city of four 
thousand inhabitants, about two hundred and fifty miles south of 
Monterey. Gen. Scott was placed in command of all the land- 
forces in Mexico. As he was preparing to advance upon the city 
of Mexico by the way of Vera Cruz, nearly all of Gen. Taylor’s 
forces were withdrawn from him. For five months, Gen. Taylor 
remained in Monterey, with merely sufficient men to garrison his 
defensive works; but in February, having received re-enforce¬ 
ments which raised his army to si^x thousand men, he commenced 
a forward movement. When about fifty miles south of Monterey, 
he learned that Santa Anna was rapidly advancing upon him with 
twenty thousand men. To meet such a force with but five thou¬ 
sand, it was necessary that Gen. Taylor should have every possi¬ 
ble advantage of position. He found a field such as he desired, 
on a plateau, a short distance from the small hamlet of Buena 
Vista. Having posted his little band to the best possible advan¬ 
tage, Gen. Taylor, with his staff, stood upon an eminence at a little 
distance, from which he could see the clouds of dust raised by the 




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ZACHARY TAYLOR. 


S19 


immense host advancing against him. Onward the vast throng 
pressed, in numbers which seemed almost countless, until the band 
of Americans was nearly surrounded. Anxiously his staff looked 
into the generaPs face; but no sign of faltering or agitation could 
be perceived. 

Just then, a Mexican messenger was seen nearing the outposts 
with a flag of truce. It was a summons to surrender, with the 
assurance that twenty thousand Mexicans vrere in Gen. Taylor’s 
front and rear. 

Were they twice that number,” Gen. Taylor quietly remarked 
to the officers around him, it would make no difference.” 

He then returned the modest answer to Santa Anna, “ Gen. 
Taj lor never surrenders.” As he rode along his ranks, he said to 
his troops, “ Soldiers, I intend to stand here not only so long as a 
man remains, but so long as dL piece of a man is left.” It was the 
22d of February, 1847. The battle soon commenced, — a battle 
of ten hours’ duration. In the midst of one of its most terrible 
scenes of tumult and carnage, Gen. Taylor rode up to a battery 
which was dealing destruction in the ranks of the foe, and, in 
tones as calm«as if he were sitting by his camp-fire, said, A little 
more grape, Capt. Bragg.” At the close of the day, over seven 
hundred of the Americans had been stricken down in killed and 
wounded, and about two thousand of the Mexicans. Often, during 
the eventful day, the result of the conflict was extremely doubtful; 
and, when night closed the scene, it seemed probable, in the 
American camp, that the dreadful struggle would be renewed on 
the morrow. The day of the battle was wet and raw. Our ex¬ 
hausted troops, drenched and chilled, bivouacked without fires. 
It was an anxious night; but in the morning, to their unspeakable 
relief, they found that the Mexicans had fled. This ended Gen. 
Taylor’s active participation in the Mexican War. 

Seldom has a battle been fought in which the troops displayed 
more gallant conduct than was exhibited by Gen. Taylor’s army 
at the battle of Buena Vista. All of the troops were volunteers, 
with the exception of about five hundred. But few of them had 
been with Taylor in his previous victories, and many of them had 
never been in battle. It is universally admitted that the victory 
was owing, not merely to the courage and patient endurance of 
the troops, but also to the military skill of their commander. 
Three several times during the day, the battle, on our part, seemed 


320 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


hopelessly lost. The Mexicans were so superior in numbers, that 
they could easily concentrate an overpowering force at any point. 
With most painful interest, Gen. Taylor watched the movements 
in various parts of the field, as he despatched re-enforcements, now 
in one direction and now in another, to strengthen his exhausted 
and wavering lines. 

At one time, the Second Kentucky Regiment was despatched to 
the aid of a column, which w^as slowly giving way before the tre¬ 
mendous pressure of the foe. In hurrying to their relief, the 
regiment was compelled to pass through a ravine filled with 
gullies and obstructions. In their eagerness in pressing forward, 
and surmounting these difficulties, they, of course, became broken, 
and presented an aspect of confusion and disorder. Gen. Taylor, 
who was eagerly watching them in the distance, was bitterly dis¬ 
appointed at this apparent failure of troops upon whom he had 
placed great reliance. Turning sadly to Mr. Crittenden, who 
stood near, he said,— 

“ This will not do. This is not the way for Kentuckians to 
behave themselves.’’ 

Mr. Crittenden was also so mortified, and felt so deeply for the 
honor of his native State, that, for a few moments, he could make 
no reply. But soon the Kentuckians had crossed the rugged 
chasm, and were seen ascending the slope to the higher land 
beyond, shoulder to shoulder, like the veterans of a hundred bat¬ 
tles. The general could scarcely restrain his expressions of de¬ 
light, as they moved rapidly on until they reached the crest of the 
hill. Here they encountered a large body of the Mexicans, rush¬ 
ing onward with shouts of exultation. The Kentuckians levelled 
their pieces, and poured in their volleys of bullets again and 
again, with such regularity, precision, and rapidity of fire, that 
the Mexicans recoiled, staggered, and fled, leaving the ground 
covered with their dead. 

The general, with a throbbing heart and a moistened eye, but 
in perfect silence, watched this movement so heroic, and its re¬ 
sults so decisive. His face was flushed with excitement, and 
beamed with delight. But when the distant report of the 
volleys reached his ear, and he saw the Mexicans in wild flight, 
scattered over the plain, he could no longer restrain his admira¬ 
tion, but shouted, Hurrah for old Kentucky ! ” 

A distinguished officer in the army thus describes the appear¬ 
ance of the general toward the close of the conflict: — 


ZACHARY TAYLOR. 


321 


“At a time when the fortunes of the day seemed extremely 
problematical, when many on our side even despaired of success, 
old Rough and Ready, as he is not inaptly styled (whom you must 
know, by the by, is short, fat, and dumpy in person, with re¬ 
markably short legs), took his position on a commanding height 
overlooking the two armies. This was about three, or perhaps 
four o’clock in the afternoon. The enemy, who had succeeded in 
gaining an advantageous position, made a fierce charge upon our 
column, and fought with a desperation that seemed, for a time, to 
insure success to their arms. The struggle lasted for some time. 
All the while, Gen. Taylor was a silent spectator; his countenance 
exhibiting the most anxious solicitude, alternating between hope 
and despondency. His staff, perceiving his perilous situation,— 
for he was exposed to the fire of the enemy, — approached him, and 
implored him to retire. He heeded them not. His thoughts were 
intent upon victory or defeat. He knew not at this moment what 
the result would be. He felt that that engagement was to decide 
his fate. He had given all his orders, and selected his position. 
If the day went against him, he was irretrievably lost; if for him, 
he could rejoice, in common with his countrymen, at the trium¬ 
phant success of our arms. 

“.Such seemed to be his thoughts, his determination; and when 
he saw the enemy give way, and retreat in the utmost confusion, 
he gave free vent to his pent-up feelings. His right leg was 
quickly disengaged from the pommel of the saddle, where it had 
remained during the whole of the fierce encounter; his arms, 
which were calmly folded over his breast, relaxed their hold; his 
feet fairly danced in the stirrups; and his whole body was in 
motion. It was a moment of the most exciting and intense 
interest. His face was suffused with tears. The day was won; 
the victorv complete; his little army saved from defeat and dis¬ 
grace; and he could not refrain from weeping for joy at what had 
seemed to so many, but a moment before, as an impossible result.’^ 

The tidings of the brilliant victory of Buena Vista spread the 
wildest enthusiasm over the country. The name of Gen. Taylor 
was on every one’s lips. The Whig party decided to take advan¬ 
tage of this wonderful popularity in bringing forward the unpol¬ 
ished, unlettered, honest soldier as their candidate for the presi¬ 
dency. Gen. Taylor was astonished at the announcement, and for 
a time would not listen to it; declaring that he was not at all quali- 

41 


S22 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


fied for such an office. So little interest had he taken in politics^ 
that, for fort}^ years, he had not cast a vote. It was not without 
chagrin that several distinguished statesmen who had been.long 
years in the public service found their claims set aside in behalf of 
one whose name had never been heard of, save in connection with 
Palo Alto, Resaca de la Palma, Monterey, and Buena Vista. It is 
said that Daniel Webster, in his haste, remarked, It is a nomina¬ 
tion not fit to be made.’^ 

Gen. Taylor was not an eloquent speaker or a fine writer. His 
friends took possession of him, and prepared such few communica¬ 
tions as it was needful should be presented to the public. The 
popularity of the successful warrior swept the land. He was 
triumphantly elected over two opposing candidates, — Gen. Cass, 
and the Ex-President, Martin Van Buren. Though he selected an 
excellent cabinet, the good old man found himself in a very uncon¬ 
genial position, and was, at times, sorely perplexed and harassed. 
His-mental sufferings were very severe, and probably tended to 
hasten his death. The proslavery party was pushing its claims 
with tireless energy ; expeditions were fitting out to capture Cuba ; 
California was pleading for admission to the Union, while slavery 
stood at the door to bar her out. Gen. Taylor found the political 
confiicts in Washington to be far more trying to the nerves than 
battles with Mexicans or Indians. 

In the midst of all these troubles, Gen. Taylor, after he had 
occupied the presidential chair but little over a year, took cold, 
and, after a brief sickness of but five days, died on the 9th of 
July, 1850. His last words were, I am not afraid to die. I am 
* ready. I have endeavored to do my duty.” He died universally 
respected and beloved. An honest, unpretending man, he had 
been steadily growing in the affections of the people; and the 
nation bitterly lamented his death. All assented to the general 
truthfulness of the following eulogy, pronounced by* the Hon. 
Mr. Marshall: — 

Great, without pride; cautious, without fear; brave, without 
rashness; stern, without harshness; modest, without bashfulness ; 
apt, without flippancy; sagacious, without cunning ; benevolent, 
without ostentation; sincere and honest as the sun, — the noble old 
Roman has, at last, laid down his earthly harness: his task is 
done.” 

Gen. Scott, who was thoroughly acquainted with Gen. Taylor, 


ZACHARY TAYLOR. 


328 


gives the following graphic and trutliful description of his char¬ 
acter : — 

With a good store of common sense, Gen. Taylor^s mind had 
not been enlarged and refreshed by reading, or much converse 
with the world. Rigidity of ideas was the consequence. The 
frontiers and small military posts had been his home. Hence he 
was quite ignorant for his rank, and quite bigoted in his ignorance. 
His simplicity was child-like, and with innumerable prejudices, 
amusing and incorrigible, well suited to the tender age. Thus, if 
a man, however respectable, chanced to wear a coat of an unusual 
color, or his hat a little on one side of the head; or an officer to 
leave a corner of his handkerchief dangling from an outside pocket, 
— in any such case, this critic held the offender to be a coxcomb 
(perhaps something worse), whom he would not, to use his oft- 
repeated phrase, ‘ touch with a pair of tongs.^ 

“Any allusion to literature beyond good old Dilworth’s Spelling- 
book, on the part of one wearing a sword, was evidence, with the 
same judge, of utter unfitness for heavy marchings and combats. 
In short, few men have ever had a more comfortable, labor-saving 
contempt for learning of every kind. Yet this old soldier and 
neophyte statesman had the true basis of a great character,— 
pure, uncorrupted morals, combined with indomitable courage. 
Kind-hearted, sincere, and hospitable in a plain way, he had no 
vice but prejudice, many friends, and left behind him not an 
enemy in the world.” 


CHAPTER XIII. 


MILLARD FILLMORE. 

Hw lowly Birth, — Struggles with Adversity. — Limited Education. — Eagerness for Intel¬ 
lectual Improvement. — A Clothier. — A Law-student. — Commencement of Practice. — 
Rapid Rise. — Political Life. — In Congress. — Vice-President. — President. — His 
Administration, — Retirement. — The Civil War. 


Millard Fillmore, the thirteenth President of the United 
States, was born at Summer Hill, Cayuga County, N.Y., on 



RESIDENCE OF MILLARD FILLMORE. 


tlie 7th of January, 1800. His father was a farmer, and, owing 
to misfortune, in humble circumstances. Of his mother, the 
daughter of Dr. Abiathar Millard of Pittsfield, Mass., it has been 
said that she possessed an intellect of very high order, united with 

824 








MILLARD FILLMORE, 


325 


much personal loveliness, sweetness of disposition, graceful man¬ 
ners, and exquisite sensibilities. She died in 1831; having lived 
to see her son a young man of distinguished promise, though she 
was not permitted to witness the high dignity which he finally 
attained. 

I n consequence of the secluded home and limited means of his • 
father, Millard enjoyed but slender advantages for education in his 
early years. The common schools, which he occasionally attended, 
were very imperfect institutions; and books were scarce and ex¬ 
pensive. There was nothing then in his character to indicate the 
brilliant career upon which he was about to enter. He was a 
plain farmer’s boy; intelligent, good-looking, kind-hearted. The 
sacred influences of home had taught him to revere the Bible, and 
had laid the foundations of an upright character. When fourteen 
years of age, his father sent him some hundred miles from home, 
to the then wilds of Livingston County, to learn the trade of a 
clothier. Near the mill there was a small village, where some 
enterprising man had commenced the collection of a village 
library. This proved an inestimable blessing to young Fillmore. 
His evenings were spent in reading. Soon every leisure moment 
was occupied with books. His thirst for knowledge became insa¬ 
tiate ; and the selections which he made were continually more 
elevating and instructive. He read history, biography, oratory ; 
and thus gradually there was enkindling in his heart a desire to 
be something more than a mere worker with his hands ; and he 
was becoming, almost unknown to himself, a well-informed, 
educated man. 

This intellectual culture of necessity pervaded his whole being. 
It beamed forth from his countenance; it inspired his words; it 
placed its impress of’dignity and refinement upon his manners. 
The young clothier had now attained the age of nineteen years, 
and was of fine personal appearance and of gentlemanly demeanor. 
It so happened that there was a gentleman in the neighborhood of 
ample pecuniary means and of benevolence, —Judge Walter Wood, 
— who was struck with the prepossessing appearance of young 
Fillmore. He made his acquaintance, and was so much impressed 
with his ability and attainments, that he advised him to abandon 
his trade, and devote himself to the study of the law. The young 
man replied, that he had no means of his own, no friends to help 
him, and that his previous education had been very imperfect. But 


326 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


Judge Wood had so much confidence in him, that he kindly offered 
to take him into his own office, and to loan him such money as he 
needed. Most gratefully, the generous offer was accepted. 

There is in many minds a strange delusion about a collegiate 
education. A young man is supposed to be liberally educated if 
.he has graduated at some college. But many a boy loiters through 
university halls, and then enters a kw-office, who is by no means 
as well prepared to prosecute his legal studies as was Millard 
Fillmore when he graduated at the clothing-mill at the end of 
four years of manual labor, during which every leisure moment 
had been devoted to intense mental culture. 

Young Fillmore was now established in the law-office. The 
purity of his character, the ardor of his zeal, his physical health, 
and his native abilities, all combined to bear him triumphantly 
forward in his studies. That he might not be burdened with debt, 
and that he might not bear too heavily on the generosity of his 
benefactor, he, during the winter months, taught school, and, in 
various other ways, helped himself along. After spending two 
years in this retired country village, he went to the city of Buffalo, 
and entered a law-office there, where he could enjoy the highest 
advantages. Here, for two years more, he pressed onward in his 
studies with untiring zeal; at the same time, supporting himself, 
mainly by teaching. 

In 1823, when twenty-three years of age, he was admitted 
to the Court of Common Pleas. He then went to the beautiful 
little village of Aurora, situated on the eastern banks of Cayuga 
Lake, and commenced the practice of the law. In this secluded, 
peaceful region, his practice, of course, was limited, and there was 
no opportunity for a sudden rise in fortune or in fame. Here, in the 
year 1826, he married a lady of great moral worth, and one capable 
of adorning any station she might be called to fill, — Miss Abigail 
Powers, daughter of Bev. Lemuel Powers. In this quiet home of 
rural peace and loveliness, Mr. Fillmore continued to devote him¬ 
self to juridical studies, and to the fundamental principles of law. 
as if he had been conscious of the exalted destiny which was be¬ 
fore him. Probably no portion of his life was more happy than 
these serene, untroubled hours. 

But true merit cannot long be concealed. His elevation of 
character, his untiring industry, his legal acquirements, and his 
skill as an advocate, gradually attracted attention; and he was in- 


MILLARD FILLMORE. 


327 


vited to enter into partnership, under highly advantageous circum¬ 
stances, with an elder member of the bar in Buffalo. Just before 
removing to Buffalo, in 1829, he took his seat in the House of 
Assembly of the State of New York, as representative from Erie 
County. Though he had never taken a very active part in 
politics, his vote and his sympathies were with the Whig party. 
The State was then Democratic, and he found himself in a helpless 
minority in the Legislature : still the testimony comes from all 
parties, that his courtesy, abil'ty, and integrity, won, to a very un¬ 
usual degree, the respect of his associates. To the important bill 
for abolishing imprisonment for debt he gave his earnest and elo¬ 
quent co-operation, speaking upon the subject with convincing 
power. 

The State Legislature is not unfrequently the entrance-door 
to the National Congress. After discharging, with great accept¬ 
ance to his Whig constituents, his responsibilities in the House 
of Assembly for three years, he was, in the autumn of 1832, 
elected to a seat in the United-States Congress. He entered 
that troubled arena in some of the most tumultuous hours of 
our national history. The great conflict respecting'the National 
Bank, and the removal of the deposits, was then raging. Expe¬ 
rienced leaders, veterans in Congressional battles, led the con¬ 
tending hosts. There was but little opportunity for a new-comer 
to distinguish himself. In this battle of the giants, Mr. Fillmore 
could do but little more than look on, study the scene, garner 
wisdom, watch his opportunity, and cast his silent vote. 

His term of two years closed; and he returned to his profession, 
which he pursued with increasing reputation and success. After 
the lapse of two years, he again became a candidate for Congress; 
was re-elected, and took his seat in 1837. His past experience 
as a representative gave him strength and confidence. The first 
term of service in Congress to any man can -be but little more 
than an introduction. He was now prepared for active duty. 
All his energies were brought to bear upon the public good. 
Every measure received his impress. The industry and the 
intensity with which he applied himself to his Congressional 
duties were characteristic of the man, and have, perhaps, never 
been surpassed. 

His reputation now began to be national. The labors which 
devolved upon him were more arduous than can well be conceived 


328 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


of by one who has not been in the same situation. To draught 
resolutions in the committee-room, and then to defend them 
against the most skilful opponents on the floor of the House, 
requires readiness of mind, mental resources, and skill in debate, 
such as few possess. Weary with these exhausting labors, and 
pressed by the claims of his private affairs, Mr. Fillmore, just 
before the close of the session, wrote a letter to his constituents, 
declining to be a candidate for re-election. Notwithstanding this 
communication, his friends met in convention, and unanimously, 
and by acclamation, renominated him, with the most earnest 
expression of their desire that he would comply with their wishes. 
Though greatly gratified by this proof of their appreciation of 
his labors, he adhered to his resolve; and, at the close of the 
term for which he was elected, he returned to his home, rejoicing 
at his release from the agitating cares of oflScial life. 

Mr. Fillmore was now a man of wide repute, and his popularity 
filled the State. The lines between the two parties, the Whig 
and Democratic, were strongly drawn; and the issues involved 
excited the community to the highest degree. The Whig party 
brought forward Mr. Fillmore as the strongest candidate whom 
they could present for the oflSce of governor. The canvass was 
one of the most exciting which had ever agitated the State, and 
the Whig party was signally defeated. In the year 1847, he was 
elected, by a very great majority, to the very important ofSce 
of comptroller of the State. Many who were not with him in 
political principles gave him their vote, from their conviction 
of his eminent fitness for that oflSce. 

In entering upon the responsible duties‘which this situation 
demanded, it was necessary for him to abandon his profession, 
and, sundering those social ties which bound him to his numerous 
friends in Buffalo, to remove to the city of Albany. It was uni¬ 
versally admitted that the duties of this office were never more 
faithfully discharged. 

Mr. Fillmore had attained the age of forty-seven years. His 
labors at the bar, in the Legislature, in Congress, and as comp¬ 
troller, had given him very considerable fame. The Whigs were 
casting about to find suitable candidates for President and Vice- 
President at the approaching election. Far away, on the waters 
of the Rio Grande, there was a rough old soldier, who had fought 
one or two successful battles with the Mexicans, which had 


MILLARD FILLMORE. 


329 


caused his name to be proclaimed in trumpet-tones all over the 
land. He was an unpolished, unlettered man, entirely inexpe¬ 
rienced in all statesmanlike accomplishments ; but he was a man 
of firmness, of uncompromising integrity, and of sound common 
sense and practical wisdom. He was an available man; for 
Palo Alto ” and “ Resaca de la Palma ” would ring pleasantly 
upon the popular ear, and catch the popular vote. But it was 
necessary to associate with him on the same ticket some man of 
reputation as a statesman, jand in whose intellectual powers and 
varied experience the community might repose confidence. 

Under the influence of these considerations, the names of 
Zachary Taylor and Millard Fillmore became the rallying-cry 
of the Whigs as their candidates for President and Vice-President. 
The Whig ticket was signally triumphant. On the 4th of March, 
1849, Gen. Taylor was inaugurated President, and Millard Fill¬ 
more Vice-President, of the United States. He was admirably 
adapted for this position. His tall, well-proportioned, manly form, 
and the natural dignity and grace of his bearing, gave him an 
imposing presence. His mind, originally of a high Qrder, and 
disciplined by the laborious culture of years, enabled him 
promptly and successfully to meet every intellectual emergency. 
His countenance gave expression to those traits of firmness, 
gentleness, and conscientiousness, which marked his character. 

The stormy days of the Republic were now at hand. The great 
question of slavery was permeating every subject which was 
brought before Congress, shaping the whole legislation of the 
country, arousing fiery debate, arraying parties in hostile lines 
in the Senate and in the House, and agitating as with earth¬ 
quake-throes every city and village in the Union. It was evident 
that the strength of our institutions was soon to be severely 
tried. John C. Calhoun, when President of the Senate, had 
taken the position, that he had no power to call a senator to 
order for words, however intemperate, when spoken in debate. 
Vice-President Fillmbre, upon taking his chair as presiding officer 
over that august body, announced to the Senate his determination 
tion to maintain decorum in that chamber, and that he should 
promptly call senators to order for any offensive words which 
might be spoken. The Senate manifested its approval of this 
decision by unanimously ordering the views thus expressed to 
be entered upon their journal. 

42 


330 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS, 


On tlie 9th of July, 1850, President Taylor, but about one year 
and four months after his inauguration, was suddenly taken sick, 
and died. By the Constitution, Vice-President Fillmore thus 
became President of the United States. He appointed a very 
able cabinet, of which the illustrious Daniel Webster was Secre¬ 
tary of State. The agitated condition of the country brought 
questions of very great delicacy before him. He was bound by 
his oath of office to execute the laws of the United States. One 
of those laws was understood to be, that if a slave, escaping from 



THE UNITED-STATES SENATE. 


bondage, should reach a free State, the United States was bound 
to help catch him, and return him to his master. Most Christian 
men loathed this law. President Fillmore felt bound by his 
oath rigidly to see it enforced. Slavery was organizing armies 
to invade Cuba, as it had invaded Texas, and annex it to the 
United States. President Fillmore gave all the influence of his 
exalted station against the atrocious enterprise. The illustrious 
Hungarian, Kossuth, visited our shores, and was cordially re¬ 
ceived by the President; while he frankly informed him that it 














MILLARD FILLMORE. 


331 


was the policy of our Government to avoid all complications in 
European affiiirs. 

Mr. Fillmore had very serious diflSculties to contend with, since 
the opposition had a majority in both Houses. He did every 
thing in his power to conciliate the South ; but the proslavery 
party in the South felt the inadequacy of all measures of transient 
conciliation. The population of the free States was so rapidly 
increasing over that of the slave States, that it was inevitable that 
the power of the Government should soon pass into the hands of 
the free States. The famous compromise-measures were adopted 
under Mr. Fillmore’s administration, and the Japan Expedition 
was sent out. 

On the 4th of March, 1853, Mr. Fillmore, having served one 
term, retired from office. He then took a long tour throughout 
the South, where he met with quite an enthusiastic reception. 
In a speech at Vicksburg, alluding to the rapid growth of the 
country, he said, — 

Canada is knocking for admission, and Mexico would be glad 
to come in ; and, without saying whether it would be right or 
wrong, we stand with open arms to receive them: for it is the 
manifest destiny of this Government to embrace the whole North- 
American continent.” 

In 1855, President Fillmore went to Europe, where he was 
received with those marked attentions which his position and 
character* merited. Returning to this country in 1856, he was 
nominated for the presidency by the strangely called ‘^Know- 
Nothing ” party. Mr. Buchanan, the Democratic candidate, was 
the successful competitor for the prize. Since then, Mr. Fillmore 
has lived in retirement. During the terrible conflict of civil war, 
he was mostly silent. It was generally supposed that his sympa¬ 
thies were rather with those who were endeavoring to overthrow 
our institutions. Edward Everett, who had been a candidate for 
the vice-presidency, left no one in doubt respecting his abhorrence 
of the Rebellion, and his devotion to his country’s flag. Presi¬ 
dent Fillmore kept aloof from the conflict, without any cordial 
words of cheer to the one party or the other. He was thus for¬ 
gotten by both. He is still living in the interior of New York, 
in the sixty-seventh year of his age. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


FRANKLIN PIERCE. 


Character of his Father. —His Promise in Boyhood. — College Life. — Political Views.-- 
Success as a Lawyer. —Entrance upon Public Life. — Service in the Mexican War. - • 
Lauding in Mexico. — March through the Country. — Incidents of the March. —Anec¬ 
dotes. — Nomination for the Presidency. —Election. —Administration. — Retirement. 

^ Franklin Pierce, the fourteenth President of the United 
States, was born in Hillsborough, N.H., Nov. 23, 1804. His 



RESIDENCE OF FRANKLIN PIERCE. 


father was a Revolutionary soldier, who, with his own strong 
arm, hewed him out a home in the wilderness. He was a man of 
inflexible integrity; of strong, though uncultivated mind; and an 
uncompromising Democrat. When, under the administration of 

3 . 3 * 3 ! 








FRANKLIN PIERCE. 


333 


John Adams, an eflfort was made to draw our country into an 
alliance with England in her war against the French republic, 
Major Pierce, as his title then was, was offered a high commission 
in the army which was proposed to be levied. 

No, gentlemen,” was his reply. ‘‘ Poor as I am, and acceptable 
as would be the position under other circumstances, I would sooner 
go to yonder mountains, dig me a cave, and live on roast potatoes, 
than be instrumental in promoting the objects for which that 
army is raised.” 

His energetic and upright character and commanding abilities 
gave him great influence in the secluded region where he dwelt, 
and he occupied nearly every post of honor and emolument which 
his neighbors could confer upon him. He was for several years 
in the State Legislature ; was a member of the governors council, 
and a general of the militia. He was an independent farmer; a 
generous, large-hearted, hospitable man. The mother of Franklin 
Pierce was all that a son could desire, — an intelligent, prudent, 
affectionate, Christian woman. Franklin was the sixth of eight 
children. 

Old Gen. Pierce was a politician, ever ready for argument; 
and there was ample opportunity for the exercise of his powers 
in those days of intense political excitement, when, all over the 
New-England States, Federalists and Democrats were arrayed so 
fiercely against each other. Franklin, as a boy, listened eagerly 
to the arguments of his father, enforced by strong and ready 
utterance and earnest gestures. It was in this school that he 
was led to ally himself vvith the Democratic party so closely, as to 
be ready to follow wherever it might lead. 

Franklin was a very bright and handsome boy, generous, warm¬ 
hearted, and brave. He won alike the love of old and young. The 
boys on the play-ground loved him. His teachers loved him. The 
neighbors looked upon him with pride and affection. He was by 
instinct a gentleman; always speaking kind words, doing kind 
deeds, with a peculiar unstudied tact which taught him what was 
agreeable. Without developing any precocity of genius, or any 
unnatural devotion to books, he was a good scholar; in body, in 
mind, in affections, a finely-developed boy. 

When sixteen years of age, in the year 1820, he entered Bow- 
doin College, at Brunswick, Me. The writer there became per¬ 
sonally acquainted with him. He was one of the most popular 


334 


LIVES OF TBE PRESIDENTS. «. 


young men in college. The purity of his moral character, the 
unvarying courtesy of his demeanor, his rank as a scholar, and his 
genial nature, rendered him a universal favorite. There was 
something very peculiarly winning in his address, and it was evi¬ 
dently not in the slightest degree studied: it was the simple out- 
gushing of his own magnanimous and loving nature. 

Upon graduating, in the year 1824, Franklin Pierce commenced 
the study of law in the office of Judge Woodbury, one of the 
most distinguished lawyers of the State, and a man of great pri¬ 
vate worth. The eminent social qualities of the young lawyer, 
his father’s prominence as a public man, and the brilliant political 
career into which Judge Woodbury was entering, all tended to 
entice Mr. Pierce into the fascinating yet perilous paths of politi¬ 
cal life. With all the ardor of his nature, he espoused the cause 
of Gen. Jackson for the presidency. He commenced the prac¬ 
tice of law in Hillsborough, and was soon elected to represent the 
town in the State Legislature. Here he served for four years. 
The two last years he was chosen speaker of the house by a 
very large vote. 

In 1833, at the age of twenty-nine, he was elected a member of 
Congress. Without taking an active part in the debates, he was 
faithful and laborious in duty, and ever rising in the estimation of 
those with whom he was associated. Strenuously he supported 
the administration of Gen. Jackson, securing not only the con¬ 
fidence, but the personal friendship, of that extraordinary man. 
Mr. Pierce sympathized in the fears of the State-rights party, that 
the National Government would consolidate so much power as to 
endanger the liberties of the individual States. In Congress, he 
warmly allied himself with the Democratic party; being apparently • 
in sympath}^ with them in all its measures. 

Ini837, being then but thirt 3 "-three years of age, he was elected 
to the Senate of the United States; taking his seat just as Mr. Van 
Buren commenced his administration. He was the youngest mem¬ 
ber in the Senate. The ablest men our country has produced 
were then among the leaders of the Democracy, — Calhoun, Bu¬ 
chanan, Benton. Senator Pierce was a remarkably fluent, grace¬ 
ful speaker, always courteous and good-tempered; and his speeches 
were listened to by both parties with interest. In the year 1834, 
he married Miss Jane Means Appleton, a lady of rare beauty and 
accomplishments, and one admirably fitted to adorn every station 


FRANKLIN PIERCE. 


335 


with which her husband was honored. Of three sons who were 
born to them, all now sleep with their mother in the grave. 

In the year 1838, Mr. Pierce, with growing fame, and increasing 
business as a lawyer, took up his residence in Concord, the capital 
of New Hampshire. The citizens of his native town, in token of 
their high’esteem, gave him a parting dinner. He devoted him¬ 
self with new zeal to his duties at the bar, and took his rank at 
once among the ablest lawyers. His tact, his genial spirit, and 
his unvarying courtesy, gave him extraordinary power with a 
jury. It is said that he was never known to insult, browbeat, or 
endeavor to terrify, a witness. 



GEN. PIERCE LANDING IN MEXICO. 


President Polk, upon his accession to oflSce, appointed Mr. 
Pierce attorney-general of the United States; but the offer 
was declined, in consequence of numerous professional engage¬ 
ments at home, and the precarious state of Mrs. Pierce’s health. 
He also, about the same time, declined the nomination for gover¬ 
nor by the Democratic party. The war with Mexico called Mr. 
Pie-ce into the army. Receiving the appointment of brigadier* 













336 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


general, he embarked, with a portion of his troops, at Newport, 
R.L, on the 27th of May, 1847. 

Gen. Pierce landed upon a sand-beach, at a place called Yirgara, 
on the 28th of June. There was already an encampment of about 
five hundred men, under the command of Major Lally, at that 
place. He was ordered to make no delay there, and yet no jirepa- 
rations had been made for his departure. About two thousand wild 
mules had been collected from the prairies; but a stampede had 
taken place, in which fifteen hundred had disappeared. He was 
compelled to remain for several weeks in this encampment, upon 
sand as smooth as a floor, and so hard, that it would scarcely show 
the footprints of a mule. For three miles, the waves dashed 
magnificently on this extensive beach. Though the mornings 
were close, and the heat excessive, by eleven o’clock a fine sea- 
breeze always set in. There were frequent tropical showers, in 
which the rain fell in floods; and there were peals of thunder 
such as are rarely heard, and flashes of lightning, such as are, per¬ 
haps, never seen, in regions farther north. 

Every morning, the troops were under drill: they could not 
bear the exposure to the mid-day sun. Though they were not far 
from the city, Gen. Pierce preferred to dwell in his tent upon the 
beach, rather than to occupy any of the houses. Vigorous meas¬ 
ures were adopted to collect mules and mustangs, in preparation 
for their advance. These animals were generally caught wild 
upon the prairies, unaccustomed to the harness, and even to the 
bridle. Much labor was required in taming them, and in breaking 
them to harness. The troops were kept constantly on the alert, 
in anticipation of an attack from the Mexicans. 

At ten o’clock in the evening of the 7th of July, there was an 
alarm. Musketry-firing was heard in the direction of the ad¬ 
vanced pickets. The long-roll was beaten, and the whole com 
mand was instantly formed in line of battle. It proved to be a 
false alarm, or rather was caused by the approach of a small band 
of guerillas to the vicinity of the sentinels. The next day, July 9, 
Lieut. Whipple was lured by curiosity to visit the cemetery, 
near the walls of the city. Imprudently, he went unarmed, and 
accompanied but by a single private. Six guerillas attacked, 
overpowered, and seized him; while the private escaped, and 
informed Gen. Pierce. He immediately despatched a troop of 
cavalry in pursuit; but no trace of Lieut. Whipple could be dis- 


FRANKLIN PIERCE. 


337 


covered. In a few days, however, they learned that his life had 
been spared, hut that he was a prisoner about t^yelve miles from 
the camp. A detachment was sent by night to surprise the ban¬ 
ditti. They took the village; but the guerillas fled, taking their 
prisoner with them. 

At lengtl^, on the 13th of July, after a delay of nearly three 
vveeks, and after great labor and perplexity, Gen. Pierce was able 
to give orders for an advance. The beautiful beach was covered 
with wagons, mules, horses, and all the imposing paraphernalia 
of war. 

On the morning of the 14th, eighty wagons started, under Capt. 
Wood. The}^ took the Jalapa Road for San Juan, twelve miles 
distant. There they were to await the remainder of the brigade. 
The heat was so intense, tliat they could not move between the 
hours of nine in the morning and four in the afternoon. ' Col. 
Ransom accompanied the train with two companies of infantry. 
Every thing being ready, they moved at an early hour, in fine 
order and spirits. The next day, a detachment of six companies 
was sent off. It was not until the 16th that Gen. Pierce was 
able to leave. In his journal he writes, — 

After much perplexity and delay, on account of the unbroken 
and intractable teams, I left the camp this afternoon at five o^clock, 
with the Fourth Artillery, Watson’s marine corps, a detachment 
of the third dragoons, and about forty wagons. The road was 
very heavy, the wheels were sinking almost to the hubs in sand, 
and the untried and untamed teams almost constantly bolting in 
some part of the train. We.were occupied rather in breaking the 
animals to harness than in performing a march. At ten o’clock 
at night, we bivouacked in the darkness and sand by the wagons 
in the road, having made but three miles from camp.” 

The next morning, at four o’clock, they were again on the move. 
The road was still heavy with sand, leading over short, steep hills. 
At eight o’clock in the morning, they reached Santa Fe, but eight 
miles from Vera Cruz. The heat of a blazing, torrid sun was now 
overpowering; and the army remained in camp until four o’clock 
in the afternoon. Just before starting, two muleteers came in, 
greatly agitated, bringing the report that five hundred guerillas, 
armed to the teeth, were on the Jalapa Road, rushing on to attack 
the camp. The whole force was immediately called to arms, and 
two pieces of artillery placed in position to command the road. It 

43 


338 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


either proved a false alarm, or the guerillas, taking counsel of 
• discretion, changed their course. 

Resuming their march at four o’clock, the column reached San 
Juan about nine o’clock in the evening, in a drenching rain. The 
gu(‘.rillas had attempted to retard the march by destroying a 
bridge over one of the branches of the San-Jpan River ; but the 
New-England men, accustomed to every variety of work, almost 
without delay repaired the structure. All night, all the next day, 
and the next night, the rain poured in such floods as are nowhere 
seen, save in the tropics. The encampment was on low ground, 
along the margin of the stream. As there was nothing but mud 
and water to rest* in, it was thought best to continue the march. 

On the 20th, they reached Telema Nueva, twenty-four miles 
from Yera Cruz. As they were marching along, several musket- 
shots were fired upon them from an eminence on their left. A 
few round-shot were thrown in that direction, and a small detach¬ 
ment dashed up the hill; but the enemy had fled. After advancing 
about a mile farther, quite a number of mounted Mexicans were 
seen hovering about, evidently reconnoitring parties. As it was 
supposed that a large force was in the vicinity, all precautionary 
arrangements were made to repel an attack. Three companies of 
infantry, and a detachment of dragoons, were sent to flank our 
march by advances through a path on the left of the main road. 
Just as this detachment was returning by the circuitous route 
to the road along which the main body was passing, the enemy 
opened a brisk fire upon them. 

The foe was in, ambush, concealed in the dense chaparral on 
each side of the road. Our troops met this attack from unseen 
assailants, and promptly returned the fire. The guns were speed¬ 
ily unlimbered, and a few discharges of canister silenced the fire 
of the enemy. They fied too rapidly to be caught. We lost six 
wounded, and seven horses shot. A Mexican paper stated their 
loss at forty. 

“ I witnessed,” writes Gen. Pierce, “ with pleasure, the conduct 
of that part of my command immediately engaged on this occasion. 
The first fire of the enemy indicated a pretty formidable force, 
the precise strength of which could not be ascertained, as they 
were completely covered by the chaparral. It was the first time 
on the march that any portion of my command had been fairly 
under fire. I was at the head of the column, on the main road, 


FRANKLIN FIERCE. 


339 


and witnessed the whole scene. I saw nothing but coolness and 
courage on the part of both officers and men.” 

On the night of the 20th of July, the brigade encamped at Paso 
de Orejas. The rear-guard did not reach the encampment until 
after dark. As it was descending a slope towards the camp, a 
band of guerillas was seen approaching. All the day they had 
been noticed on the distant hills, watching the advance of our 
lines. As they approached menacingly within cannon-range, a 
gun was brought to bear upon them; and a few discharges put 
them to flight. Paso de Orejas is on the west side of a beautiful 
stream, spanned by a substantial bridge. 

At four o’clock on the morning of July 21, they again broke 
camp, and pursued their course towards Puente Nacionale, antici¬ 
pating an attack at every exposed point. When they reached the 
summit of a long hill which descended on the west to the Antigua 
River, Gen. Pierce halted his command, and with his glass care¬ 
fully examined the country before them. In the distance could be 
seen the little village of Puente Nacionale, on the western side of 
the river. This stream is also crossed by a bridge. A few lancers 
could be seen in the village, in their gay uniforms, riding rapidly 
from one position to another, and flourishing their red flags as if 
in deflance. A strong barricade, defended by a breastwork, was 
thrown across the bridge. A large body of the enemy was posted 
on a blufi* one hundred and fifty feet high, which commanded the 
structure over which the little army must pass. It was impossi¬ 
ble to turn their position. 

Gen. Pierce rode forward to reconnoitre the enemy’s works 
more closely. He then brought forward his artillery, and, by some 
deadly discharges, swept the bridge, and dispersed the lancers. 
A few shots were also thrown at the heights, which so distracted 
the attention of the enemy, that Col. Bonham, with a few compar 
nies of picked men, made a rush upon the bridge with a loud 
battle-cry, leaped the barricade of brush and timber, reached the 
village, rallied his men under cover of its buildings, and rushed 
up the steep bluff, to gain its summit just in time to see the be¬ 
wildered and disorganized foe disappear in the distance. One 
grand cheer from the victors on the bluff, echoed back by the 
troops below, greeted this heroic achievement. The remainder 
of the command followed rapidly, and in good order. A company 
of dragoons dashed through the village, hoping to cut off the 




340 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


retreat of the fugitives; but terror had added such wings to their 
flight, that they had entirely disappeared in the dense chaparral 
in their rear. 

Col. Bonham^s horse was shot, and Gen. Pierce received a mus¬ 
ket-ball through the rim of his hat. It is indeed wonderful that 
So few were hurt, when the bullets, for a short time, rattled so 
thickly around them; but the Mexicans on the bluiT took poor 
aim, and most of their balls passed over oiir heads. Here they 
encamped for the night, at a distance of thirty miles from Vera 
Cruz. Gen. Pierce established his headquarters at a large and 
splendid estate which he found here, belonging to Gen. Santa Anna. 

At four o’clock the next morning, July 22, the brigade was 
again in motion. As they moved along, upon*all the surrounding 
heights armed bands of Mexicans were seen watching them. 
They kept, however, at too great a distance to be reached by 
bullet or ball. At one point of the march, the head of the 
column was fired upon by a few guerillas hidden in the chapar¬ 
ral, who succeeded in wounding three horses ; but the skirmish¬ 
ers thrown out in pursuit of them could find no trace even of their 
ambuscade. At length, on this day’s tramp, they came in sight 
of an old Spanish fort, which commanded both the I'oad, and a 
bridge that crossed a stream at this point. The bridge was barri¬ 
caded, with the evident intention of defending it. Here Gen. 
Pierce expected a stern confiict; but, to his surprise, he found 
both fort and barricade silent and solitary. Kemoving the obstruc¬ 
tions, they came to another stream, much broader, also spanned 
by a bridge. 

“ It was,” writes Gen. Pierce, a magnificent work of art, com¬ 
bining great strength and beauty,—a work of the old Spaniards (so 
many of which are found upon this great avenue from the coast), 
fitted to awaken the admiration and wonder of the traveller. The 
fact that the main arch, a span of about sixty feet, had been blown 
up, first burst upon me as I stood upon the brink of the chasm, 
with a perpendicular descent of nearly a hundred feet to the bed 
of a rapid stream much swollen by the recent rains. As far as 
the eye could reach, above and below, the banks on the west side, 
of vast height, descended precipitously, almost in a perpendicular 
line, to the water’s edge. 

This sudden and unexpected barrier, I need not say, was some¬ 
what withering to the confidence with which I had been ani- 


FRANKLIN PIERCE. 


341 


mated. The news having extended back along the line, my 
officers soon crowded around me; <ind the deep silence that 
•ensued was more significant than any thing which could have been 
spoken. After a few moments’ pause, this silence was broken by 
many short epigrammatical remarks, and more questions. ^ We 
have it before us now/ said Col. Hebert. ‘ The destruction of this 
magnificent and expensive work of a past generation could not 
have been ordered but upon a deliberate and firm purpose of a 
stern resistance.’—‘This people have destroyed,’ said another, 
‘ what they never will rebuild.’ ” 

What to do was now the question. In the mean time, a small 
body of infantry had descended^ the steep by the aid of trees, 
rocks, and stumps, and, fording the stream, had taken possession 
of a stone church on the other side. The line of wagons, brought 
to a stand, extended back along the road for a distance of a mile 
and a half. For miles around, the growth was dwarfed and scrub¬ 
by, affording no timber to reconstruct the arch. It was now 
night; and weary, and not a little despondent, all sank to repose. 

It so happened that there was in the army a Maine lumberman, 
Capt. Bodfish, who had been accustotned to surmount many diffi¬ 
culties of this kind in the logging-swamps of his native State. Gen. 
Pierce the next morning, at an early hour, sent for him. With a 
practised eye, he examined the ground, and said that he could con¬ 
struct a road over which the train could pass. 

“ How much time do you need,” inquired Gen. Pierce, “ to com¬ 
plete the road ?” 

“ That depends,” said he, “ upon the number of men employed. 
If you give me five hundred men, I will furnish you a road over 
which the train can pass safely in four hours.” 

The detail was immediately ordered, and in three hours the 
trains were in motion. “ Bodfish’s road,” says Gen. Pierce, “ unless 
this nation shall be regenerated, will be the road at that place, for 
Mexican diligences, for half a century to come.” Before the sun 
went down on the evening of the 23d, every wagon had passed 
without the slightest accident. There was great glee that night 
in the camp. Many were the jokes about Mexican stupidity and 
Yankee cunning. All were now eager to press on; for all felt 
new assurance in the final success of their bold enterprise. 

They were approaching Cerro Gordo. From the heights in that 
vicinity, the Mexicans could easily embarrass the march by a 


S42 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


plunging fire. Gen. Pierce himself, with a body of cavalry, set 
out in the darkness and the rain to occupy the eminences. The 
darkness was so great, that one’s hand could scarcely be seen be¬ 
fore him; and it soon became impossible to advance. The detach¬ 
ment slept upon their arms until the earliest dawn of the morning, 
when they pressed on, and succeeded in seizing the important po¬ 
sition. A few Mexicans were seen upon one of the heights, who 
discharged a volley of bullets, harmless from the distance, upon a 
portion of the train. A six-pounder was brought forward, which 
threw a few canister-shot into the midst of them; and they scat¬ 
tered in all directions. 

They soon reached another of ,the magnificent estates of Santa 
Anna, well stocked with fat cattle. Gen. Pierce, in his journal, 
says very naively, As there was no owne;' of whom to purchase, 
I have sent out detachments to supply our wants. The boys had 
great fun in playing hunt buffalo; ’ and, in the excitement of 
the chase, some of them wandered to an imprudent distance from 
the camp. One of them got a bullet-shot through the thigh in 
consequence. All the night, guerillas were prowling about the 
camp.” 

Upon Santa Anna’s estate, or hacienda as it was called, they- 
found delightful encampment upon a green lawn, gently sloping 
to a fine stream of clear, pure water. They were then but eight 
miles from Jalapa. 

On the morning of the 24th, they left, with regret, their delight¬ 
ful encampment at Encero. The verdant lawn, the sparkling 
stream rippling over its pebbly bed, and the cultivated region 
around, reminded all of their New-England homes. At noon, they 
reached Jalapa unopposed. Here Gen. Pierce rode to an inn kept 
by a Frenchman, and dined. At the inn, he met several well- 
dressed, intelligent Mexicans. They were profuse in their com¬ 
mendations of the achievements of the Yankees. The army 
proceeded about three miles beyond the city, and encamped by 
another fine stream, “ which drives the spindles of Don Garcia, a 
quarter of a mile below us.” He there ascertained, that, beyond 
doubt, the gentlemen with whom he had conversed in the inn at 
Jalapa were guerillas in disguise. They were ever hovering 
around the skirts of the army, ready to murder and to rob as they 
could find opportunity. That very day, a servant, who had been 
sent to water a horse, not six rods from the road, was killed, and 
his horse stolen. 


FRANKLIN PIERCE. 


343 


The next day, the 27th, as they made a short tarry in their en¬ 
campment just out from Jalapa, several soldiers, who had wandered, 
in violation of orders, from the camp to the vicinity of the sur¬ 
rounding farms, never returned. It is supposed that they were 
either killed or captured. 

On the morning of the 29th, at seven o’clock, the march was again 
resumed.. The sick-list was increasing, and there were over four 
hundred on the surgeon’s roll. Few inexperienced in such mat¬ 
ters can imagine the care and skill requisite to move a body, even 
of twenty-four hundred men, hundreds of miles, with four hundred 
sick men in wagons, so that the wants of all shall be attended to, 
and that every man shall have his regular and proper .meals. 
Fruits were abundant along the line of march, and the soldiers 
indulged freely. The rain was also falling in torrents, which kept 
all drenched to the skin, and penetrated the tents, while the flood 
rushed in torrents through the gullies. 

The morning of the 30th found them near the Castle of Perote. 
‘•I reached the castle,” Gen. Pierce writes, ‘‘before dark; and 
Col. Windcoop, who was in command of the castle, with Capt. 
Walker’s elegant company of mounted riflemen, kindly tendered 
me his quarters. But I adhered to a rule from which I have 
never deviated on the march, — to see the rear of the command 
safely in camp; and, where they pitched their tents, to pitch my 
own. The rear-guard, in consequence of the broken condition of 
the road, did not arrive until nine o’clock; when our tents wore 
pitched in darkness, and in the sand which surrounds the castle 
on all sides.” 

Here they made a halt of two or three days to repair damages, 
and to refresh the sick and the exhausted. Two hundred of the 
sick were sent to the hospital in the castle. The next day, Capt. 
Rufi* arrived wdth a company of cavalry, having been sent by Gen, 
“Scott to ascertain the whereabouts and condition of Gen. Pierce’s 
command, and to afibrd him assistance if needed. Soon they re¬ 
sumed their march, and, on the 7th of August, reached the main 
body of the army under the commander-in-chief, at Puebla. Gen. 
Pierce had conducted twenty-four hundred men on this arduous 
march, without the loss of a single wagon. 

Gen. Scott had been waiting at Puebla for the arrival of the 
re-enforcement under Gen. Pierce. He was now prepared to move 
vigorously forward in his attack upon the city of Mexico. Santa 


344 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


- Anna had an advance-guard of about seven thousand men at Con 
treras. Gen. Scott wished to cut off these detached- troops from 
the main ,body of the Mexican army, and, by destroying their 
communications with the city, to have them at his mercy. He 
therefore sent a division of his army, by a circuitous route, to 
occupy the villages and strong positions in their rear. To hide 
this movement from the foe, and to distract their attention, Gen. 
Pierce was ordered, with four thousand men, to make an impetu¬ 
ous assault upon their front. 

It was indeed severe service upon which he was thus detached. 
The enemy had nearly two to his one. They were in their own 
chosen positions, and were protected by intrenchments, from which, 
unexposed, they couid hurl a storm of shot and shell into the faces 
of their assailants. The ground over which the charge was to be 
made was exceedingly rough, bristling with sharp points of rocks, 
and broken by ridges and gullies. The Mexicans threw out skir¬ 
mishers, who were posted in great force among the irregularities 
of this broken ground. As our troops advanced, they were met 
with a murderous fire of musketry from these concealed riflemen, 
while the heavy balls from the Mexican batteries shiverOd the 
rocks around them. Had the Mexicans been expert gunners, Gen. 
Pierce’s command would have been annihilated; but, fortunately 
or providentially, most of the shot from the intrenched camp 
passed over the heads of our troops. 

‘‘ In the midst of this fire, Gen. Pierce,” writes Hawthorne, his 
eloquent biographer, being the only officer mounted in the bri¬ 
gade, leaped his horse upon an abrupt eminence, and addressed the 
colonels and captains of the regiments, as they passed, in a few 
stirring words, reminding them of the honor of their country, of 
the victory their steady valor would contribute to achieve. Press¬ 
ing forward to the head of the column, he had nearly reached the 
practicable ground that lay beyond, when his horse slipped among’ 
the rocks, thrust his foot into a crevice, and fell, breaking his own 
leg, and crushing his rider heavily beneath him.” 

The general was stunned by the fall, and almost insensible. 
His orderly hastened to his assistance, and found him very se¬ 
verely bruised, and suffering agonizingly from a sprain of the left 
knee, upon which the horse had fallen. The bullets and balls 
of the enemy were flying thickly around. As the orderly at¬ 
tempted to assist the wounded general to reach the shelter of a 


FRANKLIN PIERCE. 


345 


projecting rock, a shell buried itself in the earth at their feet, and, 
exploding, covered them with stones and sand. “That was a 
lucky miss,’^ said Gen. Pierce calmly. 

Leaving him under shelter of the rock, the orderly went in search 
of a surgeop. Fortunately, he met Dr. Ritchie near by, who was 
following the advancing column. He rendered such assistance as 
the circumstances would permit; and soon Gen. Pierce recovered 
full consciousness, and became anxious to rejoin his troops. Not¬ 
withstanding the surgeon’s remonstrances, he leaned upon his 
orderly’s shoulder, and, hobbling along, reached a battery, where 
he found a horse, whose saddle had just been emptied by a Mexi¬ 
can bullet. He was assisted into the saddle. “ You will not 
be able to keep your seat,” said one. “ Then you must tie me 
on,” replied the general. Thus bruised and sprained, and agon¬ 
ized with pain, he again rode forward into the hottest of the 
battle. 

Till nightfall, the conflict raged unabated. It was eleven at 
night before Gen. Pierce left his saddle. He had withdrawn his 
troops from their exposed position, and assembled them in a shel¬ 
tered spot, where' they were to pass the night. The rain was 
then falling in torrents. It is a curious phenomenon, that it often 
rains almost immediately after a battle. There were no tents; 
there was no protection for officers or men: drenched, exhausted, 
hungry, they threw themselves upon the flooded sods for sleep. 
Gen. Pierce lay down upon an ammunition-wagon; but the 
torture of his inflamed and swollen knee would not allow him a 
moment of repose. 

But one hour after midnight of that dark and stormy night had 
passed, when Gen. Pierce received orders from Gen. Scott to put 
his brigade, in a new position in front of the enemy’s works, to be 
prepared for a new assault with the earliest dawn of the morning. 
In the midst of the gloom and the storm, the movement was 
made. 

As soon as a few glimmers of light were seen in the east, these 
men of invincible resolution and iron sinews were again on the 
move. Gen. Pierce was again in his saddle, and at the head of his 
brigade. The Mexican camp was attacked simultaneously in front 
and rear. In seventeen minutes, the “stars and stripes” floated 
over the ramparts of the foe; and the cheers of the victors pro¬ 
claimed that the conquest was complete. Many prisoners were 


346 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


taken. Those who escaped fled in wildest disorder towards Che 
rubusco. 

Gen. Pierce almost forgot exhaustion, wounds, and agony, in 
his eager pursuit of the fugitives. The roads and fields w«ere 
strewn with the dead and the dying, and every conceivable form 
of human mutilation and misery. The pursuit continued until 
one o’clock. The victors then found themselves checked by the 
strong fortifications of Cherubusco and San Antonio, where Santa 
Anna was prepared to make another desperate stand. Gen. Scott 
feared that Santa Anna might escape, and concentrate all his 
troops within the walls of the city of Mexico. To prevent this, 
he sent an aide. Col. Noah E. Smith, to call -Gen. Pierce to his 
presence, that he might give him directions to take a route by 
which he could assail the foe in their rear. Col. Smith met the 
general at the head of his brigade. He writes, — 

Gen. Pierce was exceedingly thin, worn down by the fatigue 
and pain of the day and night before, and then evidently sufifering 
severely. Still there was a glow in his eye, as the cannon boomed, 
that showed within him a spirit ready for the conflict.” 

Gen. Scott was sitting on horseback beneath a tree, issuing 
orders to his staff, as Gen. Pierce rode up. The commander-in¬ 
chief had heard of the accident which had befallen the general, 
and, as he noticed his aspect of pain and physical exhaustion, said 
to him, — 

Pierce, my dear fellow, you are badly injured. You are not 
fit to be in the saddle.” 

^‘Yes, general,” was the reply: am, in a case like this.” 

You cannot touch your foot to the stirrup,” said Scott. 

One I can,” answered Pierce. 

Gen. Scott looked at him for a moment in silence, and then said 
in decided tones, You are rash, Gen. Pierce: we shall lose you, 
and we cannot spare you. It is my duty to order you back to 
St. Augustine.” 

But Gen. Pierce pleaded so earnestly that he might be permit¬ 
ted to remain, and take part in the great battle then imminent, that 
Scott at last reluctantly consented, and ordered him to advance 
w'ith his brigade. His path led over a marsh, intersected with 
ditches filled with water. Over several of these ditches, the gen¬ 
eral leaped his horse. At last he came to one ten feet wide and 
six feet deep. He was there compelled to leave his horse. He, 


FRANKLIN PIERCE. 


347 


however, succeeded in getting across the .ditch, and was there 
with his troops under fire. He had now gone to the farthest 
point of physical endurance. Entirely overcome by sleeplessness, 
exhaustion, pain, and fatigue, he sank to the ground, fainting, and 
almost insensible. 

Some soldiers hastened to l^t him, and bear him from the field. 
He partially revived, and, resisting, said, “ No : do not carry me 
off. Let me lie here.^’ There he remained, in the midst of his 
struggling troops, exposed to the shot of the foe, while the tre¬ 
mendous battle of Cherubusco raged around him. At length, the 
cheers of our men announced their victory. Santa Anna sent a 
flag of truce, proposing an armistice. Gen. Pierce was appointed 
one of the commissioners to meet him. He was unable to walk, 
or to mount his horse without assistance. He was, however, 
helped into his saddle, and rode to Tacubaya; and the conference 
was held at the house of the British consul from late in the after¬ 
noon until four o’clock the next morning. 

They could not come to satisfactory terms, and military opera¬ 
tions were soon renewed. Not long after, on the 8th of Septem¬ 
ber, the sanguinary battle of Molino del Rey, the fiercest conflict 
of the war, was fought. Gen. Worth, with three thousand men, 
attacked fourteen thousand Mexicans. Gen. Pierce was ordered 
to his support. Just as he reached the field, a shell burst almost 
beneath the feet of his horse; and he narrowly escaped being 
thrown over a precipice. Again the vanquished enemy fled, and 
made another stand under protection of the castle of Chepultepec. 
In the heroic storming of that castle, on the 13th of September, 
Gen. Pierce could take no part, though his brigade performed 
gallant service. But their general had been conveyed to the 
headquarters of Gen. Worth, where he was taken so extremely, 
ill, that he was unable to leave his bed for thirty-six hours. This 
was the last great struggle. The city of Mexico now fell into the 
hands of the Americans. Gen. Pierce remained in the captured 
city until December, when he returned from these strange scenes 
of violence and blood to the wife and child whom he had left 
about nine months before among the peaceful hills of Netv Hamp¬ 
shire. 

When Gen. Pierce reached his home in his native State, he 
was received enthusiastically by the advocates of the Mexican 
War, and coldly by its opponents. He resumed the exercise of 


848 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


his profession, very frequently taking an active part in political 
questions, giving his cordial support to the proslavery wing of 
the Democratic party. The compromise measures met cordially 
with his approval; and he strenuously advocated the enforce¬ 
ment of the fugitive-slave law, which so shocked the religious 
sensibilities of the North. He thus became distinguished as a 
“ Northern man with Southern principles.’^ The strong partisans 
of slavery in the South consequently regarded him as a man 
whom they could safely trust in office to carry out their plans. 

On the 12th of June, 1852, the Democratic convention met in 
Baltimore to nominate a candidate for the presidency. For four 
days they continued in session, and in thirty-five ballotings no 
one had obtained a two-thirds vote. Not a vote had thus far been 
thrown for Gen. Pierce. Then the Virginia delegation brought 
forward his name. There were fourteen more ballotings, during 
which Gen. Pierce constantly gained strength, until, at the forty- 
ninth ballot, he received two hundred and eighty-two votes, and 
all other candidates eleven. Gen. Winfield Scott was. the Whig 
candidate. Gen. Pierce was chosen with great unanimity. Only 
four States — Vermont, Massachusetts, Kentucky, and Tennessee 
— cast their electoral votes against him. On the 4th of March, 
1853, he was inaugurated President of the United States. 

His administration proved one of the most stormy our country 
had ever experienced. The controversy between slavery and 
freedom was then approaching its culminating point. It became 
evident that there was an ‘‘ irrepressible confiict ” between them, 
and that this nation could not long exist half slave and half free.” 
President Pierce, during the whole of his administration, did every 
thing which could be done to conciliate the South; but it was all 
in vain. The conflict every year grew more violent, and threats 
of the dissolution of the Union were borne to the north on every 
southern breeze. 

At the demand of slavery, the Missouri Compromise was re¬ 
pealed, and all the Territories of the Union were thrown open to 
slavery. The Territory of Kansas, west of Missouri, was settled 
by emigrants mainly from the North. According to law, they 
were about to meet, and decide whether slavery or freedom should 
be the law of that realm. It was certain that they would decide 
for freedom. 

Slavery in Missouri and other Southern States rallied her armed 


FRANKLIN PIERCE. 


349 


legions, marched them in military array into Kansas, took pos¬ 
session of the polls, drove away the citizens, deposited their own 
votes by handfuls, went through the farce of counting them, and 
then declared, that, by an overwhelming majority, slavery was es¬ 
tablished in Kansas. These facts nobody denied ; and yet Presi¬ 
dent Piercers administration felt bound to respect the decision 
obtained by such votes. 

This armed mob from other States then chose a legislature of 
strong proslavery men ; convened them in a small town near Mis¬ 
souri, where they could be protected from any opposition from the 
free-soil citizens of the State; and called this band, thus fraudu¬ 
lently elected, the “ Legislature of Kansas.^^ No one could deny 
these facts; and yet President Pierce deemed it his duty to recog¬ 
nize this body as the lawful legislature. 

This bogus legislature met, and enacted a code of proslavery 
laws which would have disgraced savages. Neither freedom of 
speech nor of the press was allowed, and death was the doom 
of any one who should speak or write against slavery; and yet 
President Pierce assumed that these laws were binding upon the 
community. 

The armed mob of invasion consisted of nearly seven thousand 
men. As they commenced their march, one of their leaders thus 
addressed them: — 

To those who have qualms of conscience as to violating laws. 
State or National, the time has come when such impositions must 
be disregarded, as your rights and property are in danger. I ad¬ 
vise you, one and all, to enter every election district in Kansas, and 
vote at the point of the bowie-knife and revolver. Neither give 
nor take quarter, as our case demands it. It is enough that the 
slaveholding interest wills it, from which there is no appeal.’^ 

They marched with artillery, banners, music, and rr<ounted 
horsemen. By such a force, infant Kansas was subjugated, and 
the most sacred rights of American freemen were trampled in the 
dust. When the army returned to the city of Independence in 
Missouri, the “ squatter sovereign ’’ of that place said, They 
report that not a single antislavery man will be in the Legislature 
of Kansas.’^ 

The citizens of Kansas, the great majority of whom were free- 
State men, met in convention, and adopted the following resolve :— 
Eesolved, That the body of men, who, for the past two months, 


350 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


have been passing laws for the people of our Territory, moved, 
counselled, and dictated to by the demagogues of Misspuri, are to 
us a foreign body, representing only the lawless invaders who 
elected them, and not the people of the territory ; that we repu¬ 
diate their action as the monstrous consummation of an act of 
violence, usurpation, and fraud, unparalleled in the history of the 
Union.’’ 

The free-State people of Kansas also sent a petition to the Gen¬ 
eral Government, imploring its protection. In reply, the President 
issued a proclamation, declaring that the legislature thus created 
must be recognized as the legitimate* legislature of Kansas, and 
that its laws were binding upon the people f and that, if necessary, 
the whole force of the governmental arm would be put forth to 
enforce those laws. 

Such was the condition of affairs when President Pierce ap¬ 
proached the close of his four-years’ term of office. The North had 
become thoroughly alienated from him. The antislavery senti¬ 
ment, goaded by these outrages, had been rapidly increasing; and 
all the intellectual ability and social worth of President Pierce 
were forgotten in deep reprehension of these administrative acts. 
The slaveholders of the South also, unmindful of the fidelity with 
which he had advocated those measures of Government which 
they approved, and perhaps, also, feeling that he had rendered 
himself so unpopular as no longer to be able acceptably to serve 
them, ungratefully dropped him, and nominated James Buchanan 
as the Democratic candidate to succeed him in the presidency. 
John C. Fremont was the candidate of the Free-soil party. 

James Buchanan was the successful candidate. He had pledged 
himself to stand upon the same platform which bis predecessor 
had occupied, “ lowered never an inch.” On the 4th of March, 
1857, President Pierce retired to his home in Concord, N.H. Of 
three children, two had died, and his only surviving child had been 
killed before his eyes by a railroad accident; and his wife, one of 
the most estimable and accomplished of ladies, was rapidly sink¬ 
ing in consumption. The hour of dreadful gloom soon came, and 
he was left alone in the world, without wife or child. 

When the terrible Rebellion burst forth, which divided our coun¬ 
try into two parties, and two only, Mr. Pierce remained steadfast 
in the principles which he had always cherished, and gave his sym¬ 
pathies to that proslavery party with which he had ever been 


FRANKLIN PIERCE. 


351 


allied. He declined to do any thing, either by voice or pen, to 
strengthen the hands of the National Government. He still lives, 
in the autumn of 1866, in Concord, N.H., one of the most genial 
and social of men, an honored communicant in the Episcopal 
Church, and one of the kindest of neighbors and best of friends. 



chapter xy. 


JAMES BUCHANAN. 


His Childhood’s Home. — Devotion to Study. — Scholarship, and Purity of Character. — Con¬ 
gressional Career. — Political Views. — Secretary of State. — Minister to the Court of St. 
James.— Ostend Manifesto. — Elected to the Presidency. — The New-Haven Corre¬ 
spondence. — Disasters of his Administration. — Retirement. 

James Buchanan, the fifteenth President of the United States, 
was born in a small frontier town, at the foot of the eastern ridge 



RESIDENCE OF JAMES BUCHANAN. 


of the Alleghanies, in Franklin County, Penn., on the 23d of 
April, 1791. The place where the humble cabin of his father 
stood was called Stony Batter. It was a wild and romantic spot 
in a gorge of the mountains, with towering summits rising grandly 

352 




















JAMES BUCHANAN. 


353 


all around. His father was a native of the north of Ireland; a poor 
man, who had emigrated in 1783, with little property save his 
own strong arms. Five years after his arrival in this country, he 
married Elizabeth Spear, the daughter of a respectable farmer, and, 
with his young bride, plunged into the wilderness, staked his 
claim, reared his log-hut, opened a clearing with his axe, and 
settled down there to perform his obscure part in the drama of 
life. 

In this secluded home, where James was born, he remained for 
eight years, enjoying but few social oi ‘ntellectiial advantages. 
His father was industrious, frugal, and prosperous, and was un¬ 
usually intelligent for a man in his situation. His mother also 
was a woman of superior character, possessing sound judgment, 
and a keen appreciation of the beautiful in nature and in art. 
When James was eight years of age, his father removed to the 
village of Mercersburg, where his son was placed at school, and 
commenced a course of study in English, Latin, and Greek. His 
progress was rapid; and, at the age of fourteen, he entered Dick¬ 
inson College, at Carlisle. Here he developed remarkable talent, 
and took his stand among the first scholars in the institution. His 
application to study was intense, and yet his native powers 
enabled him to master the most abstruse subjects with facility. 

In the year 1809, he graduated with the highest honors of his 
class. He was then eighteen years of age; tall and graceful, 
vigorous in health, fond of athletic sports, an unerring shot, and 
enlivened with an exuberant flow of animal spirits. He imme¬ 
diately commenced the study of law in the city of Lancaster, and 
was admitted to the bar in 1812, when he was but twenty-one 
years of age. Very rapidly he rose in his profession, and at once 
took undisputed stand with the ablest lawyers of the State. 
When but twenty-six years of age, unaided by counsel, he suc¬ 
cessfully defended before the State Senate one of the judges of 
the State, who was tried upon articles of impeachment. At the 
age of thirty, it was generally admitted that he stood at the head 
of the bar; and there was no lawyer in the State who had a more 
extensive or a more lucrative practice. 

Reluctantly, he then, in 1820, consented to stand a candidate for 
Congress. He was elected; and, for ten years, he remained a 
member of the Lower House. During the vacations of Congress, he 
occasionally tried some important cause. In 1831, he retired 

45 



354 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


altogether from the toils of his profession, having acquired an 
ample fortune. 

In 1812, just after Mr. Buchanan had entered upon the practice 
of the law, our second war with England occurred. With all his 
powers, he sustained the Government, eloquently urging the 
vigorous prosecution of the war, and even enlisting as a private 
soldier to assist in repelling the British, who had sacked Wash¬ 
ington, and were threatening Baltimore. 

Mr. Buchanan was at that time a Federalist. This term took 
its rise from those who approved of the Federal Constitution, with 
all the powers which it gave to the National Government. The 
anti-Federalists, who thought that the Constitution gave the Cen¬ 
tral Government too much power, and the State Governments too 
little, took the name of Republicans. But, when the Constitution 
was adopted by both parties, Jefferson truly said, We are all 
Federalists ; we are all Republicans.” Still it was subsequently 
found that the Constitution allowed some latitude of construction. 
Consequently, those who approved of a liberal construction, in 
favor of the General Government, still retained the name of Fede¬ 
ralists; while those who were in favor of a strict construction, not 
allowing the Central Government one hair’s breadth more of 
power than the letter of the Constitution demanded, retained the 
name of Republicans. 

The opposition of the Federal party to the war with England, 
and the alien and sedition laws of John Adams, brought the 
party into dispute; and the name of Federalist became a reproach. 
Mr. Buchanan, almost immediately upon entering Congress, began 
to incline more and more to the policy of the Republicans. 

As a member of Congress, Mr. Buchanan was faithful to his 
duties. He was always in his seat, and took an active part in 
every important question. The speeches which he made indi¬ 
cated great care in their preparation, and were distinguished for 
depth of thought and persuasive eloquence. The great question, 
as to the power of the National Government to promote internal 
improvements, agitated Congress. Mr. Buchanan was in sym» 
pathy with the Republicans, and voted against any appropriation 
to repair the Cumberland Road. The bill, however, passed Con¬ 
gress. President Monroe vetoed it. Mr.’Buchanan argued that 
Congress was not authorized to establish o. protective tariff; that it 
was authorized to impose a tariff for revenue only. In an earnest 
speech upon this subject, he said, — 


JAMES BUCHANAN. 


355 


If I know myself, I am a politician neither of the East nor 
of the West, of the North nor of the South. I therefore shall 
forever avoid any expressions, the direct tendency of which must 
be to create sectional jealousies, and at length disunion, — that 
worst and last of all political calamities.’^ 

In the stormy presidential election of 1824, in which Jackson, 
Clay, Crawford, and John Quincy Adams, were candidates, Mr. 
Buchanan espoused the calise of Gen. Jackson, and unrelentingly 
opposed the administration of Mr. Adams. When our Govern¬ 
ment undertook the singular task of regulating the dress in 
which our ambassadors should appear in foreign courts, prohibit¬ 
ing the court-costume which most of those monarchs required, 
Mr. Buchanan supported the measure. 

“ Imagine,” said he, ‘‘ a grave and venerable statesman, who 
never attended a militia-training in his life, but who has been 
elevated to the station of a foreign minister in consequence of 
his civil attainments, appearing at court, arrayed in this military 
coat, with a chapeau under his arm, and a small sword dangling 
at his side I What a ridiculous spectacle would a grave lawyer or 
judge of sixty years of age present, arrayed in such a costume ! ” 

Gen. Jackson, upon his elevation to the presidency, appointed 
Mr. Buchanan minister to Russia. The duties of his mission he 
performed with ability, which gave satisfaction to all parties. 
Upon his return, in 1833, he was elected to a seat in the United- 
States Senate. He there met, as his associates, Webster, Clay, 
Wright, and Calhoun. He advocated the measure proposed by 
President Jackson, of making reprisals against France to enforce 
the payment of our claims against that country; and defended 
the course of the President in his unprecedented and wholesale 
removals from office of .those who were not the supporters of his 
administration. Upon this question, he was brought into direct 
collision with Henry Clay. He also, with voice and vote, advo¬ 
cated expunging from the journal of the Senate the vote of cen¬ 
sure against Gen. Jackson for removing the deposits. Earnestly 
he opposed the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia, 
and urged the prohibition of the circulation of antislavery docu¬ 
ments by the United-States mails. 

In December, 1835, there was a fire in New York, which con¬ 
sumed property amounting to eighteen millions of dollars. The 
merchants, overwhelmed by this calamity, owed the United States 


356 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


the sum of three million six hundred thousand dollars. A bill 
was introduced for their relief, simply asking for an extension of 
payment, with ample security. Generously and eloquently Mr. 
Buchanan advocated the bill. In the discussion of the question 
respecting the admission of Michigan and Arkansas into the 
Union, Mr. Buchanan defined his position by saying, — 

“ The older I grow, the more I am inclined to be what is called 
a State-rights man.’’ * 

As to petitions on the subject of slavery, he advocated that 
they should be respectfully received; and that the reply should 
be returned, that Congress had no power to legislate upon the 
subject. Congress,” said he, might as well undertake to inter¬ 
fere with slavery under a foreign government as in any of the 
States where it now exists.” Many of his speeches developed 
great ability; all, earnestness and deep conviction; while he 
invariably treated his opponents in the most courteous manner, 
never allowing himself to exhibit the slightest irritation. 

M. de Tocqueville, in his renowned work upon Democracy in 
America,” foresaw the trouble which was inevitable from the 
doctrine of State sovereignty as held by Calhoun and Buchanan. 
He was convinced that the National Government was losing that 
strength which was essential to its own existence, and that the 
States were assuming powers which threatened the perpetuity of 
the U nion. Mr. Buchanan reviewed this book in the Senate, and 
declared the fears of De Tocqueville to be groundless: and yet he 
lived to sit in the presidential chair, and see State after State, in 
accordance with his own views of State rights, breaking from the 
Union, thus crumbling our republic /nto ruins; while the un¬ 
happy old man folded his arms in despair, declaring that the 
National Constitution invested him with, no power to arrest 
the destruction. 

When, Mr. Tyler succeeded Presidei;t Harrison, and, to the 
excessive disappointment of the Whigs, vetoed their bank bill, 
Mr. Buchanan warmly commended his course. In reply to the 
argument, that Mr. Tyler ought to have signed the bill in fidelity 
to the party which elected him, he said, — 

“ If he had approved that bill, he would have deserved to be 
denounced as a self-destroyer, as false to the whole course of his 
past life, false to every principle of honor, and false to the sacred- 
obligation of his oath to support the Constitution.” 


JAMES BUCHANAN. 


357 


Mr. Buchanan opposed the ratification of the Wehster-Ash- 
bnrton Treaty in reference to our North-eastern boundary; and 
advocated the annexation of Texas, that it might be cut up into 
slave States, to afibrd that security to the Southern and South¬ 
western slave States which they have a right to demand.’’ Upon 
Mr. Polk’s accession to the presidency, Mr. Buchanan became 
Secretary of State, and, as such, took his share of the responsi¬ 
bility in the conduct of the Mexican War. Mr. Polk assumed 
that crossing the Nueces by the American troops into the dis¬ 
puted territory was not wrong, but for the Mexicans to cross 
the Rio Grande into that territory was a declaration of war. No 
candid man can read with pleasure the account of the course our 
Government pursued in that movement. At the close of Mr. 
Polk’s administration, Mr. Buchanan retired to private^ life ; but 
still his intellectual ability, and great experience as a statesman, 
enabled him to exert a powerful private influence in national 
affairs. 

He identified himself thoroughly and warmly with the party 
devoted to the perpetuation and extension of slavery, and brought 
all the energies of his mind to bear against the Wilmot Proviso. 
He gave his cordial approval to the compromise measures of 1850, 
which included the fugitive-slave law. Mr. Pierce, upon his elec¬ 
tion to the presidency, honored Mr. Buchanan with the mission to 
England. The plan then arose to purchase Cuba. It was feared 
that Spain might abolish slavery iii Cuba, and thus endanger the 
institution in our Southern States. To consider this important 
question, Mr. Buchanan, and Messrs. Mason and Soule, our minis¬ 
ters to France and Spain, met at Ostend. The substance of the 
result of their deliberations is contained in the following words: — 

“After we shall have offered Spain a price for Cuba far beyond 
its present value, and this shall have been refused, it will then be 
time to consider the question, ‘ Does Cubay* in the possession of 
Spain, seriously endanger our internal peace and the existence 
of our cherished Union?’ Should this question be answered in 
the. affirmative, then by every law, human and divine, we shall 
be justified in wresting it from Spain, if we possess the power.” 

This Ostend Manifesto created intense excitement, both in this 
country and in Europe ; but our own internal troubles which soon 
arose caused it to be forgotten. In the year 1856, a national Demo¬ 
cratic convention nominated Mr. Buchanan for the presidency. In 


358 . 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS, 


the platform adopted by the convention, it was stated, in connec¬ 
tion with other principles to which all parties would assent, ‘‘ that 
Congress has no power under the Constitution to interfere with 
or control the domestic institutions of the several States; that 
the foregoing proposition, covers the whole subject of slavery agi¬ 
tation in Congress; that the Democratic party will adhere to a 
faithful execution of the compromise measures, the act of reclaim¬ 
ing fugitives from service or labor included; that the Democratic 
party will resist all attempts at renewing, in Congress or out of it, 
the agitation of the slavery question, under whatever shape or 
color the attempt may be made ; and that the American Democ¬ 
racy recognize and adopt the principles of non-interference by 
Congress with slavery in State and Territory, or in the District of 
Columbia^^ 

The political conflict was one of the most severe in which our 
country has ever engaged. All the friends of slavery were on 
one side; all the advocates of its restriction and final abolition, 
on the other. Mr. Fremont, the candidate of the enemies of 
slavery, received 114 electoral votes. Mr. Buchanan received 174, 
and was elected. The popular vote stood 1,340,618 for Fremont, 
1,224,750 for Buchanan. On the 4th of March, 1857, Mr. Buchan¬ 
an was inaugurated President. The crowd which attended wa? 
immense, and the enthusiasm with which he was greeted had 
never been surpassed. Mr. Buchanan was a man of imposing per¬ 
sonal. appearance, an accomplished gentleman, endowed with 
superior abilities improved by the most careful culture, and no 
word had ever been breathed against the purity of his moral char¬ 
acter. His long experience as a legislator, and the exalted offices 
he had filled at home and abroad, eminently fitted him for the sta¬ 
tion he was called to fill. * Under ordinary circumstances, his 
administration would probably have been a success. 

But such storms arose as the country had never experienced 
before. Mr.*Buchanan was far advanced in life. But four years 
were wanting to fill up his threescore years and ten. His own 
friends, those with whom he had been allied in political principles 
and action for years, were seeking the destruction of the Govern¬ 
ment, that they might rear upon the ruins of our free institutions 
a nation whose corner-stone should be human slavery. In this 
emergency,. Mr. Buchanan was hopelessly bewildered. He could 
not, with his long-avowed principles, consistently oppose the State- 


JAMES BUCHANAN. 


359 



rights party in their assumptions. As President of the United 
btates, bound by his oath faithfully to administer the laws, he 
could not, without perjury of the grossest kind, unite with those 
endeavoring to overthrow the republic. He therefore did nothing. 


INVASION OF KANSAS. 

In August, 1857, a correspondence took place between a num 
ber of gentlemen of distinction in New Haven, Conn., and Presi¬ 
dent Buchanan, which, in consequence of its having been made 
public by the President, has become historic. As this correspond¬ 
ence develops very clearly most of the points at issue between 
President Buchanan and the great Republican party which elected 
President Lincoln, we shall quote freely from it. Impartiality will 
be secured by allowing each of the parties to speak in its own 
language. The circumstances which called forth the correspond¬ 
ence were as follows : — 

After the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, a struggle began, 
between the supporters of slavery and the advocates of freedom, 
for the possession of the Territory of Kansas by population and 
settlement. The more vigorous emigration from the free States, 




360 


LIVES 0^ THE PRESIDENTS.. 


induced by voluntary organizations to favor it, soon resulted in a 
large excess of population in favor of freedom. To wrest from 
this majority their proper control in the legislation and regula¬ 
tion of this Territory, large organized and armed mobs repeatedly 
passed over from the contiguous State of Missouri, and appeared 
in force at the polls. We have described these occurrences with 
some particularity in the. sketch of President Pierce. 

They drove away the regularly constituted inspectors of elec¬ 
tion, and substituted their own, who received the votes of the 
mcb without scruple. In some instances, lists of fictitious votes 
were returned under feigned names; and representatives of the 
Missouri mob were thereby furnished by the fraudulent inspectors 
with regular forms of election. Unfortunately, the territorial 
governor of Kansas (Reeder), embarrassed by these regular forms, 
and not knowing how far he would be justified in disputing them, 
did not, in all instances, withhold his certificates from these fraud¬ 
ulent claimants to seats in the legislature long enough for the 
people to bring evidence of the fraud. The administrations of 
both Presidents Pierce and Buchanan, and the supporters of those 
administrations, strongly proslavery in their sympathies, upheld 
this iniquitously chosen legislature in its authority and acts. 

Gov. Walker, who succeeded Gov. Reeder, in a public address 
to the citizens of Kansas, announced that President Buchanan 
was determined to sustain this legislature, thus mob elected, as 
the lawful legislature of Kansas; and that its acts would be en¬ 
forced by executive authority and by the army. This announce¬ 
ment created intense excitement with the advocates of liberty all 
over the Union. 

About forty of the most distinguished gentlemen of New Ha- 
" ven, embracing such names as Benjamin Silliman, A. C. Twining, 
Nathaniel W. Taylor, Theodore Woolsey, Charles L. English, and 
Leonard Bacon, sent a Memorial to the President upon this sub¬ 
ject. It has recently appeared, in the published Life of Pro¬ 
fessor Silliman, that the paper was from the pen of Professor 
A. C. Twining, LL.D. It reads as follows: — 

“to his excellency JAMES BUCHANAN, PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED 

STATES. 

“ The undersigned, citizens of the United States, and electors 
of the State of Connecticut, respectfully offer to your Excellency 
this Memorial — 


JAMES BUCHANAN. 


361 


The fundamental principle of the Constitution of the United 
States, and of our political institutions, is, that the people shall 
make their own laws, and elect their own rulers. • 

We see with grief, if not with astonishment, that Gov. Walk 
er of Kansas openly represents and proclaims that the President 
of the United States is employing through him an army, one 
purpose of which is to force the people of Kansas to obey laws 
not their own, nor of the United States, but laws which it is 
notorious, and established upon evidence, they never made, and 
rulers they never elected. 

We represent, therefore, that, by the foregoing, your Excel¬ 
lency is openly held up and proclaimed, to the great derogation 
of our national character, as violating in its most essential par¬ 
ticular the solemn oath which the President has taken to sup¬ 
port the Constitution of this Union. 

We call attention further to the fact, that your Excellency is 
in like manner held up to^ this nation, to all mankind, and to all 
posterity, in the attitude of levying war against a portion of the 
United States, by employing arms in Kansas to uphold a body of 
men, and a code of enactments, purporting to be -legislative, but 
which never had the election nor the sanction nor the consent of 
the people of that Territory. 

We earnestly represent to your Excellency, that we also have 
taken the oath to obey the Constitution ; and your Excellency 
may be assured that we shall not refrain from the prayer that 
Almighty God will make your administration an example of jus¬ 
tice and beneficence, and, with his terrible majesty, protect our 
people and our Constitution.” 

To this, which was called the Silliman Letter, the President 
returned a very carefully-written reply from his own hand, cov¬ 
ering seventeen folio pages. As he was well aware that the dis¬ 
tinguished character of the memorialists would stamp the Memorial 
with importance, and attract to it national attention, it cannot be 
doubted that he took counsel in its preparation, and presented, 
those arguments upon which he and his cabinet wished to rely 
with posterity in defence of their measures. After some pre¬ 
liminary remarks, which had but little bearing upon the points 
at issue, he said,— 

When 1 entered upon the duties of the presidential office, on 

46 


362 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


the 4th of March last, what was the condition of Kansas ? This 
Territory had been organized under the act of Congress of 30th 
May,. 1854; and the government, in all its branches, was in full 
operation. A governor, secretary of the Territory, chief justice, 
two associate justices, a marshal, and district attorney, had been 
appointed by my predecessor, by and with the advice and consent 
of the Senate; and were all engaged in discharging their respec¬ 
tive duties. A code of laws had been enacted by the territorial 
legislature; and the judiciary were employed in expounding 
and carrying these laws into effect. It is quite true that a con¬ 
troversy had previously arisen respecting the validity of the 
election of members of the territorial legislature, and of the laws 
passed by them ; but, at the time I entered upon my official 
duties. Congress had recognized the legislature in different 
forms and by different enactments. 

“ The delegate elected by the House of Representatives under 
a territorial law had just completed his term of service on the 
day previous to my inauguration. In fact, I found the govern¬ 
ment of Kansas as well established as that of any other Terri¬ 
tory. 

Under these circumstances, what was my duty? Was it not 
to sustain this government ? to protect it from the violence of 
lawless men who were determined either to rule or ruin ? to 
prevent it from being overturned by force ? in the language of 
the Constitution, ^ to take care that the laws be faithfully exe¬ 
cuted ’ ? It was for this purpose, and this alone, that I ordered 
a military force to Kansas, to act as a posse comitatus in aiding 
the civil magistrate to carry the laws into execution. 

The condition of the Territory at the time, which I need not 
portray, rendered this precaution absolutely necessary. In this 
state of affairs, would I not have been justly condemned, had I 
left the marshal, and other officers of like character, impotent 
to execute the process and judgments of courts of justice estab¬ 
lished by Congress, or by the territorial legislature under its 
express authority, and thus have suffered the government itself 
to become an object of contempt in the eyes of the people ? And 
yet this is what you designate as forcing ‘ the people of Kansas 
to obey laws not their own, nor of the United States; ^ and for 
doing which, you have denounced me as having violated my 
solemn oath. 


JAMES BUCHAN AM, 


363 


I ask, What else could I have done, or ought I to have done! 
Would you have desired that I should abandon the territorial 
government, sanctioned as it had been by Congress, to illegal 
violence, and thus renew the scenes of civil war and bloodshed 
which every patriot in the country had deplored? This would 
have been, indeed, to violate my oath of office, and to fix a dam¬ 
ning blot on the character of my administration. 

“ I most cheerfully admit that the necessity for sending a' 
military force to Kansas to aid in the execution of the civil law 
reflects no credit upon the character of our country. But let 
the blame fall upon the heads of the guilty. Whence did this 
necessity arise ? A portion of the people of Kansas, unwilling to 
trust to the ballot-box,—the certain American remedy for the 
Vedress of all grievances, — undertook to create an independent 
government for themselves. Had this attempt proved successful, 
it would, of course, have subverted the existing government 
prescribed |ind recognized by Congress, and substituted a revo¬ 
lutionary government in its stead. 

“ This was a usurpation of the same character as it would be. 
for a portion of the people of Connecticut to undertake to estab¬ 
lish a separate government within its chartered limits, for the 
purpose of redressing any grievance, real or imaginary, of which 
they might have complained against the legitimate State Gov¬ 
ernment. Such a principle, if carried into execution, would 
destroy all lawful authority, and produce universal anarchy. 

“ I ought to specify more particularly a condition of affairs 
which I have embraced only in general terms, requiring the 
presence of a military force in Kansas. The Congress of the 
United States had most wisely declared it to be ^ the true intent 
and meaning of this act ^ (the act organizing the Territory) ‘ not 
to legislate slavery into any Territory or State, nor to exclude it 
therefrom, but to leave the people thereof perfectly free to form 
and regulate their domestic institutions in their own way, subject 
only to the Constitution of the United States.^ 

“ As a natural consequence. Congress has also prescribed by 
the same act, that, when the Territory of Kansas shall be admitted 
as a State, it ‘ shall be received into the Union, with or without 
slavery, as their Constitution may prescribe at the time of their 
admission.^ Slavery existed at that period, and still exists, in 
Kansas, under the Constitution of the United States. This point 


364 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


has at last been finally decided by the highest tribunal known 
to our laws. How it could ever have been seriously doubted, is to 
me a mystery. If a confederation of sovereign States acquire a 
new Territory at the expense of the common blood and treasure, 
surely one set of the partners can have no right to exclude the 
other from its enjoyment by prohibiting them from taking into it 
whatsoever is recognized as property by the common Constitu¬ 
tion. 

But when the people,* the bona-fide residents of such Territory, 
•proceed to frame a State Constitution, then it is their right to de¬ 
cide the important question for themselves, — whether they will 
continue, modify, or abolish slavery. To them, and to them alone, 
does this question belong, free from all foreign interference. In 
the opinion of the territorial legislature of Kansas, the time had 
arrived for entering the Union; and they accordingly passed a 
law to elect delegates for the purpose of framing a State consti¬ 
tution. This law was fair and just in its provisions. Ht conferred 
the right of suffrage on ^ every hondfide inhabitant of the Ter- 
. ritor}",’! and, for the purpose of preventing fraud and the intru¬ 
sion of citizens of near or distant States, most properly confined 
this right to those who had resided there three months previous 
to the election. 

Here a fair opportunity was presented for all the qualified 
resident citizens of the Territory, to whatever organization they 


* It is to be observed that President Buchanan limits the term people to mean white 
p(‘ 0 ])le only. If a man had the slightest tinge of colored blood in his veins, he was not 
to be considered as one of i\\Q people. If there were two hundred thousand colored,per- 
sons in the State, and one hundred thousand white persons, it was “ most wisely 
dc'hired ” that these white persons should be permitted to decide whether these colored 
piM-sons should work for them, without wages, in lifelong bondage. It was “ most wisely 
declared that James Buchanan, a white man, should be permitted to decide whether 
Frederick Douglas, a coloi'ed 7«an, and in no respect his inferior, either morally, intellect¬ 
ually, or physically, should be compelled to black his boots, and groom his horse, from 
the cradle to the grave; and should James Buchanan thus decide, and should Frederick 
Douglas make any objection to the decision, “ illegal, unjustifiable, unconstitutional,” 
then it was fitting that a United-States army should be sent under the “ stars and the 
stripes ” to compel Frederick Douglas to ply the shoebrush and the curry-comb for 
James Buchanan. And this was called democracy, “ equal rights for all ”! 

t Colored persons, no matter how intelligent, wealthy, or refined, were no more con¬ 
sidered inhabitants than they were considered people. As Mr.’Buchanan employs these 
words with a significance different from that in which they are defined in every English 
ilictionary, it is necessary to explain the sense in which he uses them in order to make 
his meaning clear. 


JAMES BUCHANAN. 


365 


might have previously belonged, to participate in the election, and 
to express’ their opinions at the ballot-box on the question of 
slavery. But numbers of lawless men * still continue to resist 
the regular territorial government. They refused either to be 
registered or to vote, and the members of the convention were 
elected legally and properly without their intervention. 

“ The convention will soon assemble to perform the solemn 
duty of framing a constitution for themselves and their posterity ; 
and, in the state of incipient rebellion f which still exists in Kansas, 
it is m}’ imperative duty to employ the troops of the United States/ 
should this become necessary, in defending the convention against 
violence while framing the constitution; and in protecting the 
hond-fide inhabitants qualified to vote under the provisions of this 
instrument in the free exercise of the right of suffrage, when it 
shall be submitted to them for their approbation or rejection. 

“ Following the wise example of Mr. Madison towards the Hart¬ 
ford Convention, illegal and dangerous combinations, such as that, 
of the Topeka Convention, will not be disturbed, unless they shall 
attempt to perform some act which will bring them into actual 
collision with the Constitution and the laws.’^ 

The above contains the whole of Mr. Buchanan’s reply bearing 
upon the pointy at issue. As this question was so all-absorbing 
during his administration, and created such intense excitement 
throughout the whole country, justice to Mr. Buchanan seemed to 
demand that his views, which were cordially accepted and in¬ 
dorsed by his party, should be fully unfolded. This reply. Presi¬ 
dent Buchanan caused to be published, with the Memorial; and it 
was very widely circulated. By the friends of his administration, 
it was declared to be triumphant. The rejoinder on the part of 
the memorialists consisted of an address to the public, also from 
the pen of Professor Twining. It is too long to.be quoted ; but 
its substance is contained in the following extracts: — 

♦ These/* lawless men ” were^the free-State men of Kansas, who met in conventwjn, 
and passed the resolve, ** That the body of men who for the last two months have been 
passing laws for the people of our Territory, moved, counselled, and dictated to by the 
demagogues of Missouri, are to us a foreign body, representing only the lawless invad¬ 
ers who elected them, and not the people of the Territory; that we repudiate their ac¬ 
tion as the monstrous consummation of an act of violence, usurpation, and fraud, unpar¬ 
alleled in the history of the Union.” 

t These rebels were those who objected to the State being ruled by “border-ruffians ” 
from Missouri. 


S66 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


“ No man will question that the inhabitants of Kansas, by theii 
Organic Act, became possessed of the same elective privilege 
with the people of a State, just so far, at least, as that act entitles 
them to it. Since, therefore, it cannot be denied that the Consti¬ 
tution extends its protection over the elective franchise in that 
Territory as fully as in any State of the Union, it follows that the 
employment of troops to compel obedience to a notoriously non- 
elected and therefore usurping body, would, if performed in a 
sovereign State, Connecticut for example, be no more fully an un¬ 
constitutional act, no more really levying war against a portion of 
the United States, than if performed in Kansas. 

“ Are we, inhabitants of the comparatively feeble State of Con¬ 
necticut, to hold our liberties at so precarious a tenure, that if, 
hereafter, thousands of armed men from our stronger neighbor in 
the West shall make an incursion among us, seize our ballot- 
boxes, deposit their votes, and write certificates for representa¬ 
tives of their own choosing, with the point of the sword, the 
President of this Union shall assume to compel our obedience * by 
the whole power of the Government ’ ? Could it be expected that 
even such a menace would drive our citizens to recognize any 
valid authority in a mere banditti, because of their possession of 
the stolen and empty forms of law and government ? 

It has been denied by the apologists of the Missouri invaders, 
that what is called the Territorial' Legislature of Kansas is, in 
fact, such a non-elected and usurping body as we have just 
described. How stands this in the President’s reply? Hoes 
that reply deny that the body referred to ^ never had the election 
nor sanction nor consent of the people of the Territory ’ ? Not at 
all. In that document, emanating from so high a source, no such 
denial is made. Nay, we are at liberty to receive it as more; 
even as being, under the circumstances, an impressive recogni¬ 
tion. And yet, while he does not deny our chief assertion and 
fact, the President justifies the employment of troops to. uphold 
a body of men and a code of enactments which he has tacitly 
admitted never had the election nor sanction nor consent of the 
people of the Territory. 

But the President puts forward a vindication. It rests almost 
entirely upon two grounds, which we feel called upon briefly to 
review. The first ground may be suflSciently stated by a single 
quotation from his document: ^ At the time I entered upon my 


JAMES BUCHANAN. 


367 


official duties, Congress had recognized this legislature in differ¬ 
ent forms and by different enactments.^ 

What particular forms and enactments are intended, is, with 
a single exception, left to our conjecture ; but by attentively 
considering that exception, which amounts only to the admission 
of a delegate to the House after two marked rejections, you wifi 
clearly apprehend that there never was any enactment of Con¬ 
gress from which any thing more could be derived than some 
doubtful or imperfect* constructive recognition of the territorial 
body referred to. 

^^Our first answer, then, to the ground of vindication above 
stated, is an explicit denial that any joint action of the House and 
the Senate, not to mention the President, expressly purporting to 
recognize or make valid the body in question, can be found 
among the statutes of this nation, — any thing approaching in 
solemnity the Organic Act. Again : we assert that the Organic 
Act stands in all the force of an uhrepealed national law. And 
in this we refer especially to its provisions for an elective represen¬ 
tation of the people. No man will dispute us on this point. That 
great charter of popular represen^tion in Kansas remains unre¬ 
voked ; and it is undeniable, that the fundamental Organic Act 
ought to and must control all side-issues. Mere implications 
cannot be construed to conflict with the unmistakable and ex¬ 
press enactments according to which the Muly elected’ legisla¬ 
tive assembly shall consist of the persons having the highest 
number of legal votes, and with the intent Ho leave the people 
thereof (i.e. of the Territory) free to regulate their domestic insti¬ 
tutions in their own way, subject (not to invaders, but) only to the 
Constitution of the United States.'^ 

And here we might rest; for here our answer is complete. 
But we go farther, and deny the propriety even of the implica¬ 
tions claimed. The President adduces specifically only the 
admission of a delegate sent to the House by the suppoi lers of 
the usurping legislature. Now, it is enough to remark in reply, 
that, although the admission of a delegate is final as to his seat 
for a time, it has not even force to oblige a succeeding Congress 
not to exclude him, much less to oblige a President to subju¬ 
gate a Territory. But is it on such a knife-edge as this that the 
franchise of a*whole people is made to oscillate and tremble? 
fold is’ this the logic which guides our statesmen ? 


368 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


To adduce a meagre vote of a single branch of the Govern 
ment as an act of Congress; to adduce it as such in the face 
of the repeated adverse action of even that single branch; to 
do this by Ignoring the procedures of that same branch, which, 
acting as the grand inquest of the Uation, had sent forth the details 
of frauds and the evidence of invalidity, on the strength of which, 
as contained in the report of their investigating committee, they 
had formally voted to abrogate the body for whom their sanction is 
now claimed / 

The Organic Act, and, under it, the fundamental principle of 
our Constitution, stand in full force in Kansas. But, contrary to 
that act and that principle, a body of men are assuming to legis¬ 
late, who were never elected or sanctioned by the people. When, 
therefore, the President offers his oath and his obligation to see 
the laws faithfully executed, as a plea for supporting that illegal 
body, he proposes the solecism, that his obligation to the laws 
binds him to subvert the organic law, and that his oath to pre¬ 
serve and protect the Constitution binds him to contravene the 
very fundamental element of the Constitution. 

The President’s other groqpd of vindication is embraced in 
the following extracts: ^ I found the government of Kansas as 
well established as that of any other Territory. A governor, 
secretary of the Territory, chief justice, two associate justices, a 
marshal, and district attorney, had been appointed by my prede¬ 
cessor, by and with the advice and consent of the Senate. A 
code of laws had been enacted by the territorial legislature 
(mark our Italics), and the judiciary were employed in carrying 
those laws into effect.’ 

‘‘ We assent to the proposition, that if the bond-fide settlers of 
Kansas have, as a body, given their sanction and consent to the 
representative authority of the territorial legislature above 
referred to, even without having given it their election, and if 
that authority is of force to execute its enactments in the 'Terri¬ 
tory, it constitutes de factOj in union with the Federal Govern¬ 
ment and other officers, a valid republican government; but 
then that sanction, it is obvious, must have been the clear, ex¬ 
plicit, unmistakable act of the majority. How, then, does the 
fact stand in the instance before you ? 

“ So far from such sanction or consent of the majority being in 
evidence, or even presumable, the President’s reply itself sup- 


JAMES BUCHANAN. 


369 


plies distinct proof, in part, to the reverse; and facts notorious 
to common information supply the rest. ^ A portion of the people 
of Kansas,^ you read in the reply, ‘ undertook to create an inde¬ 
pendent government for themselves,^ ‘ continued to resist the. 
regular territorial government,^ and even ^ refused either to be 
registered or vote.^ 

A ^portion of the people^ have always acted out a strong pro¬ 
rest. How large a portion, the reply does not state; but you are 
aware, from good authorities, that it is two-thirds at least, and 
perhaps four-fifths, of the entire population. 

After showing the conclusive evidence upon which this fact is 
established, evidence which no one now calls in question, the 
memorialists continue,— 

fi The emphatic protest of the majority in Kansas, which was 
expressed by their afore-mentioned refusal to vote, is imputed 
to them by the President as a political and public wrong. His 
language is, ^A portion of the people of Kansas, unwilling to trust 
to the ballot-box, — the certain American remedy for the redress 
of all grievances,—undertook to create an independent govern¬ 
ment. Numbers of lawless men continued to resist the territo¬ 
rial legislature. They refused either to be registered or to 
voto.^ 

“ The resistance of these lawless men, be it observed, was 
merely a steady refusal to vote, or to recognize the pretended 
legislature. But were they indeed unwilling to trust the ballot- 
box? When and how? Was it in November, 1854, when, at 
the first election for a delegate, they were overpowered by par¬ 
ties of armed intruders, who, obtaining violent possession of the 
polls, cast about six-tenths the entire vote of the Territory? 
Was it in the following March, when thousands of armed men 
from Missouri, with tents, provision-wagons, music, and the entire 
appointments of an invading army, poured into Kansas, occupied 
every council district, took possession of the ballot-boxes, and 
excluded all rightful voters whose sentiments were not agree¬ 
able to them? Has it been at any subsequent election, every 
one of which has been controlled by voters from Missouri? Un 
der these circumstances, which are all open to the light of day, 
the reproachful charge of being ‘unwilling to trust to the ballot- 
box^ cannot reach those at whom it is aimed. 

“Fellow-citizens, we know not why the President should have 
47 



370 


UVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


introduced to us and to you the exciting subject of slavery, 
respecting which our Memorial was silent. We leave his start¬ 
ling assertions on that subject, without any other comment than 
that our silence is not to be construed into any assent.’’ 

The friends of Mr. Buchanan’s administration, North and 
South, were satisfied with his letter. They accepted and adopted 
the views it expressed as a triumphant defence of the policy 
which the Government was pursuing. On the other hand, the 
opponents of the administration accepted and adopted the views 
contained in the Memorial of the New-Haven gentlemen, and in 
their response to the President’s letter. It was upon this very 
•platform that the Hon. Stephen A. Douglass planted his feet so 
firmly, and in defence of which he fought, perhaps, the most he¬ 
roic battle ever waged in senatorial halls. This was essentially 
the issue which was presented to the nation in the next presiden¬ 
tial election, and which resulted in the choice of Abraham Lin¬ 
coln by an overwhelming majority of votes. 

In the great excitement which this state of things created in 
the United States, the opponents of Mr. Buchanan’s administra¬ 
tion nominated Abraham Lincoln as their standard-bearer in the 
next presidential canvass. The proslavery jjarty declared, that if 
he were elected, and the control of the Government were thus 
taken from their hands, they would secede from the Union, taking 
with them, as they retired, the National Capitol at Washington, 
and the lion’s share of the territory of the United States. 

Mr. Buchanan’s sympathy with the proslavery party was such, 
that he had been willing to offer them far more than they had 
ventured to claim. All that the South had professed to ask 
of the North was non-intervention upon the subject of slavery. 
Mr. Buchanan had been ready to offer them the active co-opera¬ 
tion of the Government to defend and extend the institution. In 
a private and confidential letter,” addressed to Jeff. Davis in 
1850, he wrote, in reference to a letter which he was urged to 
have published, — 

“ From a careful examination of the proceedings in Congress, 
it is clear that non-intervention is all that will be required by the 
South. Under these circumstances, it would be madness in me to 
publish my letter, and take higher ground for the South than they 
have taken for themselves. This would be to out-Herod Herod, 
and to be more Southern than the South. I shall be assail-ed by 


JAMES BUCHANAN. 


371 


fanatics and free-soilers as long as I live for having gone farther 
in support of the rights of the South than Southern senators and 
representatives.’^ 

As the storm increased in violence, the slaveholders claiming 
the right to secede, and Mr. Buchanan avowing that Congress had 
no power to prevent it, one of the most pitiable exhibitions of 
governmental imbecility was exhibited the world has ever seen. 
As soon as it was known that Mr. Lincoln was elected, the slave¬ 
holding States, drilled to the movement, began to withdraw. 
Mr. Buchanan had not a word of censure for them. All his 
rebukes were addressed to those who had wished to prevent the 
extension of slavery. “ The long-continued and intemperate in¬ 
terference,” he said, “ of the Northern people with the question 
of slavery in the Southern States, has at length produced its 
natural effects.” He declared that Congress had no power to 
enforce its laws in any State which^had withdrawn, or which was 
attempting to withdraw, from the Union. This was not the doc¬ 
trine of Andrew Jackson, when, with his hand upon his sword- 
hilt, he exclaimed, The Union must and shall be preserved! ” 
It was an alarming state of things when the supreme Executive 
declared that he had no power “ to take care that the laws be 
faithfully executed.” 

Innumerable plans of concession were proposed; but the seces¬ 
sionists did not hesitate to avow their utter contempt for the 
Government of the United States, and to spurn its advances. Mr. 
Buchanan approached the rebels on bis knees. They hastened to 
avail themselves of his. weakness, and to accomplish all their dis¬ 
organizing measures before his successor should come into power. 

South Carolina seceded in December, 1860; nearly three months 
before the inauguration of President Lincoln. Mr. Buchanan 
looked on in listless despair. The rebel flag was raised in Charles¬ 
ton ; Fort Sumter was besieged; The Star of the West,” in en¬ 
deavoring to carry food to its famishing garrison, was fired upon; 
and still Mr. Buchanan sat in the White House, wringing his 
hands, and bemoaning his helplessness. Our forts, navy-yards, 
and arsenals were seized; our depOts of military stores were plun¬ 
dered ; and our custom-houses and post-offices were appropriated 
by the rebels : and all that President Buchanan could do was to 
send a secret messenger to Charleston to implore the rebels to 


a72 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


hold back their hand a little until the close of his administration.* 
Members of his cabinet began to retire, and join the rebels, alter 
they had scattered the fleet, and robbed the arsenals and the pub¬ 
lic treasure. 

The energy of the rebels, and the imbecility of our Executive, 
were alike marvellous. Before the close of January, the rebels 
had plundered the nation of millions of property, had occupied 
and fortified many of the most important strategic points, had 
chosen their flag, and organized their government; while President 
Buchanan had not lifted a hand to check them. The nation looked 
on in agony, waiting for the slow weeks to glide away, and close 
this administration, so terrible in its weakness. 

Gen. Scott, in view of the threatening aspect of affairs, called 
repeatedly upon President Buchanan, and urged that strong gar¬ 
risons should be sent to all the imperilled forts. Many of these 
forts had no garrisons at all, and could at any time be seized and 
appropriated by the rebels, rendering their reconquest costly in 
both blood and treasure. Mr. Buchanan would not permit them 
to be strengthened. Gen. Scott entreated that at least a circular 
might be sent to the forts where there were garrisons, giving 
them warning of thejr peril, and urging them to be on the alert. 
His request was not granted until it was too late to be of avail. 

Had Gen. Scott’s plan been adopted, it would have placed 
all the arsenals and forts commanding the Southern rivers and 
strategic points so firmly in the hands of the National Govern¬ 
ment, that the rebels would scarcely have ventured to attack 
them. In all probability, it would have prevented the uprising. 
It would have saved the country four thousand millions of money, 
and nearly a million of lives. Whatever may have been the mo¬ 
tives .which influenced Mr. Buchanan, no one can be blind as to 
the result of his conduct. Probably history may be searched in 
vain for a parallel case, in which the chief ruler of a great coun¬ 
try, the secretary of war, and the secretary of the navy, all seemed 

* “ By the middle of December, Hon. Caleb Cushing:, of Massachusetts, was de¬ 
spatched to Charleston by President Buchanan as a commissioner or confidential agent 
of the Executive. His errand was a secret one; but, so far as its object was allowed io 
transpire, he was understood to be the bearer of a proffer from Mr. Buchanan, that he 
would not attempt to re-enforce Major Anderson, nor initiate any hostilities against the 
secessionists, provided they would evince ^ like pacific spirit by respecting the Federal 
authorities down to the close of his administration, now but a few weeks distant.” — 
The American Conjiict, by Horace Greeley, vol. i. p. 409. 


JAMES BUCHANAN. 


373 


to combine to leave the most important fortresses of the nation in 
as defenceless a condition as possible, when arrogant and armed 
rebellion was threatening their capture. Was this treachery? 
Was it imbecility ? 

It is very evident that for some reason the secessionists had 
no fear that President Buchanan would place any obstacles in their 
path. In December, 1860, Hon. L. M. Keitt was serenaded in 
Columbia, S.C. In response, he made a speech, in which he is 
reported to have said as follows : — 

South Carolina cannot take one step backwards now without 
receiving the curses of posterity. South Carolina, single and 
alone, is bound to go out of this accursed Union. Mr. Buchanan 
is pledged to secessioUj and I mean to hold him to it. Take your 
destinies in your own hands, and shatter this accursed Union. 
South Carolina can do it alone; but, if she cannot, she can at 
least throw her arms around the pillars of the Constitution, and 
involve all the States in a common ruin.’^ 

When South Carolina, under the leadership of John C. Calhoun, 
in the days of Andrew Jackson’s presidency, was threatening nul¬ 
lification and secession, Gen. Scott received an order from the 
War Department to hasten to Washington. He arrived in the 
evening, and immediately had an interview with the President. 
^‘The Union must and shall be preserved,” said Gen. Jackson, as 
he inquired of Gen. Scott his views as to the best military meas¬ 
ures to be adopted. 

Gen. Scott suggested strong garrisons for Fort Moultrie, Castle 
Pinckney, and for the arsenal at Augusta, which was filled with 
the materiel of war. Fort Sumter was not then built. He also 
urged that a sloop-of-war and several armed revenue-cutters 
should be immediately sent to Charleston Harbor. 

^‘Proceed at once,” said Gen. Jackson, “and execute those 
views. I give you carte hlanche in respect to troops. The vessels 
shall be there, and written instructions shall follow you.” 

Under these persuasives^ nullification and secession soon came 
to grief. There surely was as great a difference in the treatment 
of the disease by Jackson and by Buchanan as there was in the 
results of that treatment. 

At length the long-looked-for hour of deliverance came, when 
the sceptre was to fall from the powerless hands of Mr. Buchanan, 
and to be grasped by another, who would wield it with more of 


S74 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS, 


the dignity and energy becoming the chief ruler of one of the 
-most powerful nations on the globe. It was the 4th of March, 
1861. Attempts had been made by the rebels to assassinate 
Abraham Lincoln on his journey to Washington. Very narrowly 
he escaped. It was deemed necessary to adopt the most care¬ 
ful precautions to secure him from assassination on the day of 
his inauguration. Mr. Buchanan remained in Washington to see 
his successor installed, and then retired to his home in Wheat- 
land. 

The administration of .President Buchanan was certainly the 
most calamitous our country has experienced. His best friends 
cannot recall it with pleasure. And still more deplorable it is 
for his fame, that, in the dreadful conflict which rolled its billows 
of flame and blood over our whole land, no word came from the lips 
of President Buchanan to indicate his wish that our country’s ban¬ 
ner should triumph over the flag of rebellion. He might by a 
few words have rendered the nation the most signal service; but 
those words were not spoken. He still lives, in the fall of 1866, in 
his beautiful retreat at Wheatland, at the advanced age of seventy- 
five. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 

Life in a Log-cabin.--Excellence of Character early developed. — A Day-laborer. — A 
Boatman. — A Shrpkeeper. — A Student. — A Legislator. — A Lawyer. — A Member of 
Congi’ess. — A Political Speaker. — The Debate with Douglas. — Eloquence of Mr. Lin¬ 
coln.— Nominated for the Presidency. — Habits of Temperance- — His Sentiments.— 
Anecdotes. — Acts of his Administration.— His Assassination. 

In the interior of the State of Kentucky, there is the county of 
Larue. Even now, it is-but sparsely populated. Seventy-five 



RESIDEXCK OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 


years ago it was quite a wilderness, highly picturesque in ita 
streams, its forests, and its prairies; in places, smooth as a floor, 
and again swelling into gentle undulations like the ocean at the 
subsidence of a storm. The painted Indian here had free range ; 

375 






376 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


a savage more ferocious than the wild beasts he pursued. Though 
Daniel Boone had explored this region, and had returned to the 
other side of the Alleghanies laden with peltry, and with the 
report that it was an Earthly paradise, there were but few who 
were ready to plunge into the pathless wilderness, leaving all 
vestiges of civilization hundreds of miles behind them. But 
Providence, for the sake of peopling this country, seems to have 
raised up a peculiar class of men, who loved hardship and peril 
and utter loneliness. The Indians were always clustered in vil¬ 
lages ; but these men, the pioneers of civilization, penetrated the 
recesses of the forest, and reared their cabins in the most secluded 
valleys, where they seldom heard the voice or saw the face of their 
brother-man. 

About the year 1780, when the war of the Revolution was still 
raging, one of these men, Abraham Lincoln, left the beautiful Val¬ 
ley of the Shenandoah, in Virginia, for the wilds of Kentucky. 
His wife and one or two children accompanied him. There were 
no roads; there were no paths but the trail of the Indian. All 
their worldly goods they must have carried in packs upon their 
backs; unless, possibly, they might have been enabled to take with 
them a horse or a mule. What motive could have induced a civil¬ 
ized man to take such a step, it is difficult to imagine; and still, 
from the earliest settlement of our country until the present day, 
there have been thousands thus ever crowding into the wilder¬ 
ness. Only two years after this emigration, Abraham Lincoln, still, 
a young man, while working one day in his field, was stealthily 
approached by an Indian, and sliot dead. His widow was left in 
the extreme of poverty with five little children. How she strug¬ 
gled along through the terrible years of toil and destitution, we 
are not informed. It was one of those unwritten tragedies of 
which earth is full. 

There were three boys and two girls in the family. Thomas, 
the youngest of these boys, was four years of age at the time of 
his father’s death. This Thomas was the father of Abraham Lin¬ 
coln, the President of the United States, whose name must hence¬ 
forth forever be enrolled amongst the most prominent in the 
annals of our world. Of course, no record has been kept of the 
life of one so lowly as Thomas Lincoln. He was among the poor¬ 
est of the poor. His home was a wretched log-cabin; his food, the 
coarsest and the meanest. Education he had none: he could never 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 


377 


either read or write. As soon as he was able to do any thing fof 
himself, he was compelled to leave the cabin of his starving mother, 
and push out into the world, a friendless, wandering boy, seeking 
work. He hired himself out, and thus spent the whole of his 
youth as a laborer in the fields of others. 

When twenty-eight years of age, he built a log-cabin of his own, 
and married Nancy Hanks, the daughter of another family of poor 
Kentucky emigrants, who had also come from Virginia. Their 
second child was Abraham Lincoln, the subject of this sketch. 
Thomas, his father, was a generous, warm-hearted, good-natured 
man,- with but little efficiency. He greatly deplored his want of 
education, and was anxious that his children should not suffer in 
this respect as he had done. The mother of Abraham was a noble 
woman, gentle, loving, pensive, created to adorn a palace, doomed 
to toil and pine and die in a hovel. “All that I am, or hope to 
be,’^ exclaims the grateful son, “ I owe to my angel-mother: bless¬ 
ings on her memory 1 - 

Both the father and mother of Abraham Lincoln were earnest 
Christians. Their grateful son could ever say, — 

“ ’Tis not my boast that I deduce my birth 

From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth; 

But higher far my proud pretensions rise, — 

The child of parents passed into the skies.’* < 

Abraham’s mother had received some education, and would 
often delight her children by reading them some story from the 
very few books she could command. In that remote region, 
schools were-few, and very humble in their character. Abraham, 
when in his seventh year, was sent to one teacher for about two 
months, and to another for about three. His zeal was so great, 
that, in that time, he learned both to read and write. His parents 
were members of the Baptist Church j and occasionally an itin¬ 
erant preacher came along, and gathered the scattered families 
under a grove or in a cabin for religious service. Good old Par¬ 
son Elkin gave Abraham his first ideas of public speaking. 

When he was eight years of age, his father sold his cabin and 
small farm, and moved to Indiana. Three horses took the family 
and all their household goods a seven-days’ journey to their new 
home. Here kind neighbors helped them in putting up another 
log-cabin. In a home more cheerless and comfortless than the 

48 


378 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


readers of the .present day can easily comprehend, Mrs. Lincoln, 
with the delicate organization, both of body and mind, of a lady, 
sank and died beneath the burdens which crushed her. Abraham 
was then ten years of age. Bitterly he wept as his mother was 
laid in her humble grave beneath the trees near the cabin. The 
high esteem in which this noble woman was held may be inferred 
from the fact that Parson Elkin rode a hundred miles on horse¬ 
back, through the wilderness, to preach her funeral-sermon; and 
the neighbors, to the number of two hundred, who were scattered 
in that sparsely-settled region over a distance of twenty miles, 
assembled to attend the service. 

It was a scene for a painter, — the log-cabin, alone in its soli¬ 
tude; the wide-spread prairie, beautiful in the light of the sabbath¬ 
morning sun; the grove; the grave; the group seated around upon 
logs and stumps; the venerable preacher; the mourning family; 
and Abraham, with his marked figure and countenance, his eyes 
swimming with tears, gazing upon the scene which was thus hon¬ 
oring the memory of his revered mother. * 

Abraham had written the letter inviting the pastor to preach 
the funeral-sermon. He soon became the scribe of the unedu¬ 
cated community around him. He could not have had a better 
school than this to teach him to put thoughts into words. He also 
,became an eager reader. The books he could obtain were few; 
but these he read and re-read until they were almost committed 
to memory. The Bible, -^sop’s Fables,” and the “ Pilgrim’s Prog¬ 
ress,” were his favorites. The Lives of Washington, Franklin, 
and Clay, produced a deep impression upon his sensitive mind. 
All the events of their varied careers were so stored up in his 
memory, that he could recall them at any time. 

An anecdote is related illustrative of that conscientiousness of 
character which was early developed, and which subsequently 
gave him the name, throughout the whole breadth of the land, of 
“ Honest Abe.” He had borrowed Ramsay’s ‘‘ Life of Washing¬ 
ton.” By accident, the book was seriously injured by a shower. 
In consternation at the calamity, he took it back to the owner, and 
purchased the soiled copy by working for it for three days. 

His father soon married again a very worthy woman, who had 
also several children. Abraham remained at home, toiling upon 
the farm, and occasionally working as a day-laborer. He had re¬ 
markable muscular strength and agility, was exceedingly genial 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 


379 


and obliging, and secured to an eminent degree the affection and 
respect of the lowly community with which he was associated. 
He was ever ready to make any sacrifice of his own comfort to 
assist others. Having some considerable mechanical skill, he built 
a boat to carry the produce of the farm down the Ohio River to a 
market. One morning, as he was standing by his boat at the 
landing, two men came down to the shore, and wished to be taken 
out to a steamer in the river. He sculled them out with their lug¬ 
gage. Each of them tossed a silver half-dollar to him. In telling 
this story in the day when his income was twenty-five thousand 
dollars a year, and he had obtained almost world-wide renown, he 
said, — 

“ I could scarcely believe my eyes. It was a most important 
incident in my life. I could scarcely believe that I, a poor boy, 
had earned a dollar in less than a day. The world seemed wider 
and fairer before me. I was more hopeful and confident from that 
time.’’ 

When nineteen years of age, a neighbor applied to him to take 
charge of a flat-boat to float a cargo of produce down the Ohio 
and the Mississippi to New Orleans, — a distance of more than a 
thousand miles. A more exciting trip for an adventurous young 
man can scarcely be imagined. Housed safely in his capacious 
boat, with food and shelter; floating down the tranquil current of 
the beautiful Ohio, and swept resistlessly along by the majestic 
flood of the Father of Waters ; passing headlands and forests, huts 
and villages, the tortuous river bearing the boat in all directions,— 
north, south, east, west; the stream now compressed within narrow 
banks, and now expanding to a lake, and almost to an ocean; to 
be borne along by an insensible motion through such scenes, in 
the bright moTrning sunshine or in the serene moonlight, must 
have enkindled emotions in the bosom of young Lincoln never to 
be forgotten. With a rifle, and a small boat attached to their float¬ 
ing ark, they could supply themselves with game. Whenever they 
wished, they could tie their boat to the shore, and visit the cabins 
of the remote settlers for supplies. 

One night, when tied to the shore, they were attacked by seven 
robbers eager for plunder. Quite a little battle ensued, when the 
robbers were put to precipitate flight. Having arrived at New 
Orleans, the cargo was sold, and the boat disposed of for lumber. 
Young Lincoln, with his companions, retraced their passage 


380 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


back to Indiana in a long and weary journey, most of the way on 
foot. 

As the years rolled on, the lot of this lowly family was the usual 
lot of humanity. There were joys and griefs, weddings and fune¬ 
rals. Abraham’s sister Sarah, to whom he was tenderly attached, 
was married when a child of but fourteen years of age, and soon 
died. The family was gradually scattered. Mr. Thomas Lincoln, 
naturally restless, finding his location unhealthy in the almost 
unbroken wilderness of Spencer County, la., and lured by the 
accounts which he had heard of the marvellous fertility of Illinois, 
sold out his squatter’s claim in 1830, and emigrated two hundred 
miles farther north-west, — to Macon County, Ill. It was a weary 
spring journey over swollen streams and through roads of mire. 
The teams, containing the personal effects of the emigrants, were 
dragged by oxen; and fifteen days were occupied in reaching their 
new home upon the banks of the Sangamon. 

Abraham Lincoln was then twenty-one years of age. With 
vigorous hands, he aided his father in rearing another log-cabin. 
It was made of hewn timber. The only tools they had to work 
with were an axe, a saw, and a drawer-knife. A smoke-house and 
barn were also built, and ten acres of land were fenced in by split 
rails. Abraham worked diligently at this until he saw the family 
comfortably settled, and their small lot of enclosed prairie planted 
with corn; when he announced to his father his intention to leave 
home, and to go out into the world to seek his fortune. Little did 
he or his friends imagine how brilliant that fortune was to be. 
But the elements of greatness were then being developed. He 
saw the value of education, and was intensely earnest to improve 
his mind to the utmost of his power. He saw the ruin which 
ardent spirits were causing, and became strictly temperate; re¬ 
fusing to allow a drop of intoxicating liquor to pass his lipg. And 
he had read in God’s word, ‘‘ Thou shalt not take the name of the 
Lord thy God in vain; ” and a profane expression he was never 
heard to utter. Religion he revered. His morals were pure, and 
he was uncontaminated by a single vice. 

It is diflScult to explain the reason for the fact, that one young 
man, surrounded by every influence which should elevate, sinks 
into ruin; and that another, exposed to all the temptations which 
would naturally tend to degrade, soars to dignity and elevation 
which render him an honor to his race. Young Abraham worked 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 


381 


for a time as a hired laborer among the farmers. Then he went to 
Springfield, where he was employed in building a large flat-boat. 
In this he took a herd of swine, floated them down the Sangamon 
to the Illinois, and thence by -the Mississippi to New Orleans. 
Whatever Abraham Lincoln undertook, he performed so faithfully 
as to give great satisfaction to his employers. In this adventure . 
his employers were so well pleased, that, upon his return, they 
placed a store and a mill under his care. A blessing seemed 
to follow him. Customers were multiplied. His straightforward, 
determined honesty secured confidence. In settling a bill with a 
woman, he took six and quarter cents too much. He found it out 
in his night’s reckoning, and immediately, in the dark, walked to 
her house, two miles and a half distant, to pay it back to her. 
Just as he was closing the store one night, in the dusk, he weighed 
out half a pound of tea for a woman. In the morning, he found, 
.that, by an accidental defect in the scales, the woman had received 
scant weight by four ounces. He weighed out the four ounces, 
shut up the store, and carried them to her; a long walk before 
breakfast. 

A bully came into the store one day, rioting, blustering, insult¬ 
ing beyond endurance, trying to provoke a fight. Well, if you 
must be whipped,” said Abraham at last, “ I suppose I may as 
well whip you as any other man.” He seized him with his long, 
powerful arms, threw him upon the ground as though he had been 
a child, and, gathering in his hand some “ smart weed ” which 
chanced to be near, rubbed it in his face, until the fellow bel¬ 
lowed with pain, and cried for mercy. Abraham, with ‘‘ malice to¬ 
wards none,” helped him up, got some cool water to bathe his 
burning face, and made him ever after one of his best friends. 

He borrowed an English grammar, studied it thoroughly, and 
completely mastered it. He sought the society of the most intel¬ 
ligent men in that region, joined a debating-club, and took The 
Louisville Journal,” which he not only read, but carefully pon- 
dered all its leading articles. Every leisure moment was devoted 
to study and thought. 

In 1832, the celebrated Indian chief Black Hawk crossed the 
Mississippi, and, with a large band of savages, was ascending Rock 
River. Volunteers were called for to resist him. Lincoln, with 
enough others.in his immediate neighborhood to make a company, 
enlisted. Who should be their captain? There were two candi- 


3-82 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


dates, — Mr. Lincoln and a Mr. Kirkpatrick, a man of extensive 
influence, and who had been a former employer of Mr. Lincoln, 
but who was so arrogant and overbearing, that Mr. Lincoln could 
not live with him. The mode of ’election was very simple. The 
two candidates were placed apart, and each man was told to go to 
•the one whom he preferred. Nearly the whole band was soon 
found clustered around Lincoln. This was with Mr. Lincoln the 
proudest hour of his life. The little army of twenty-four hun¬ 
dred ascended Rock River in pursuit of Black Hawk. The sav¬ 
ages were attacked, routed, and Black Hawk was taken prisoner. 
Zachary Taylor was colonel, and Abraham Lincoln captain, in this 
campaign. Nothing seemed then more improbable than that 
either of those men should ever become President of the United 
States. 

Upon his return to Sangamon County, he was proposed as a 
candidate for the State Legislature. He was then twenty-three 
years of age, and tvas the political admirer of Henry Clay, and not 
of Gen. Jackson. The great majority of the county were Jack¬ 
sonian Democrats: but Mr. Lincoln’s personal popularity was 
such, that he received almost every vote in his own precinct; 
though, in the general vote, he was defeated. He again tried his 
hand at store-keeping, and, with a partner, purchased a lot of 
goods. But his partner proved fickle and dissipated, and the 
adventure was a failure. He now received from Andrew Jackson 
the appointment of postmaster for New Salem. The duties were 
jight, and the recompense small, in that wilderness. His only post- 
office was his hat. All the letters he received he carried there, 
ready to deliver as he chanced to meet those to whom they were 
addressed. 

That new country was constantly demanding the services of a 
surveyor. Mr. Lincoln studied the science^ and, entering upon 
the practice of this new profession, followed it vigorously and 
successfully for more than a year. He was still rapidly acquiring 
information, and advancing in mental culture. Shakspeare he 
read and re-read. Burns he could almost repeat by. heart. Oc¬ 
casionally he ventured to make a political speech. 

In 1834, he again became a candidate for the State Legislature, 
and was triumphantly elected. Mr. Stuart of Springfield, an emi- 
nent lawyer, advised him to study law ; offering to lend him such 
assistance in money as he needed. He walked from New Salem 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 


383 


to Springfield,* borrowed of Mr. Stuart a load of books, carried 
them upon his back to New Salem, and commenced his legal 
studies. With earnestness which absorbed every energy of his 
soul, he entered upon his student-life. He had no pleasant office, 
no choice library, none of the aj^pliances of literary luxury, to 
entice him. Much of his time, his study was the shade of an oak- 
tree. When the legislature assembled, he trudged on foot, with 
his pack on his back, one hundred miles to Yandalia, then the 
capital of the State. He was a silent but studious member, 
gaining strength and wisdom every day. At the close of the ses¬ 
sion, he walked home, and resumed the study of the law, support¬ 
ing himself by surveying. These years of thought and study 
had accomplished their work, and suddenly he flashed forth an 
orator. It was at a public meeting in Springfield that he elec¬ 
trified the audience, and was at once recognized as one of the 
most eloquent men in the State. 

In 1836, he was re-elected to the State Legislature. Mr. Lin¬ 
coln was now twenty-seven years of age, and a prominent man in 
the State of Illinois. It was during this session of the legisla¬ 
ture that Mr. Lincoln first met Stephen A. Douglas, who was then 
but twenty-three years old. The slavery question was beginning 
to agitate the country. Both parties were bowing submissive to 
that great power. Some extreme proslavery resolutions passed 
the legislature. There were but two men who ventured to re¬ 
monstrate. Abraham Lincoln was one. Slavery,’^ Mr. Lincoln 
said in his protest, which was entered upon the journal of the 
house, is founded on both injustice and bad policy.’^ He was 
still poor. He walked to Vandalia. He walked home ; his only 
baggage, a bundle in his hand. 

Major Stuart, of Springfield, now proposed that Mr. Lincoln 
should become his partner in the law; and accordingly, in April, 
1839, he removed to Springfield, and commenced the practice of 
his new profession. In the mean time, the capital was removed to 
Springfield; and Mr. Lincoln, by successive elections, was contin¬ 
ued in the legislature, and was soon recognized as its leading 
member on the Whig side. In the practice of the law, his suc¬ 
cess with the jury was so great, that he was engaged in almost 
every important case in the circuit. 

Mr. Lincoln at once took a very high position at the bar. He 
would never advocate a cause which be did not believe to be a 


384 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


just one, and no amount of odium or unpopularity could dissuade 
him from espousing a cause where he thought the right was with 
his client. Few lawyers were at that time willing to undertake 
the defence of any one who had helped a fugitive slave on his way 
to Canada. A man who was accused of that crime applied to one 
of the first lawyers in Springfield as his advocate. The lawyer 
declined, saying that he should imperil all his political prospects 
by undertaking the case. He then applied to an earnest anti¬ 
slavery man for advice. Go,’' said he, ‘^to Mr. Lincoln. He is 
not afraid of an unpopular cause. When I go for a lawyer to de¬ 
fend an arrested fugitive slave, other lawyers will refuse me; but, 
if Mr. Lincoln is at home, he will always take my case.” 

Judge Caton said of him, ‘‘His mode of speaking was generally 
of a plain and unimpassioned character; and yet he was the au¬ 
thor of some of the most beautiful and eloquent passages in our 
language, which, if collected, would form a valuable contribution 
to American literature.” 

Judge Breeze, speaking of him after his death, said, “ For my 
single self, I have, for a quarter of a century, regarded Mr. Lin¬ 
coln as the finest lawyer I ever knew, and of a professional bear¬ 
ing so high-toned and honorable, as justly, and without derogating 
from the claims of others, entitling him to be presented to the 
profession as a model well worthy the closest imitation.” 

Judge Drummond’s testimony is equally full and emphatic. He 
says, “ With a voice by no means pleasant, and indeed, when ex¬ 
cited, in its shrill tones sometimes almost disagreeable ; without 
any of the personal graces of the orator; without much in the out¬ 
ward man indicating superiority of intellect; without Quickness 
of perception, — still his mind was so vigorous, his comprehen¬ 
sion so exact and clear, and his judgment so sure, that he easily 
mastered the intricacies of his profession, and became one of the 
ablest reasoners and most impressive speakers at our bar. With 
a probity of character known to all, with an intuitive insight into 
the human heart, with a clearness of statement which was itself 
an argument, with uncommon power and felicity of illustration, — 
often, it is true, of a plain and homely kind, and with that sin¬ 
cerity and earnestness of manner which carried conviction, he 
was, perhaps, one of the most successful jury-lawyers we have 
ever had in the State. He always tried a case fairly and honestly. 
He never intentionally misrepresented the evidence of a witness 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 


385 


r 


or tlie argument of an opponent. He met both squarely, and if 
he could not explain the one, or answer the other, substantially 
admitted it. He never misstated the law according to his own in¬ 
telligent view of it.’^ 

At one time, Mr. Lincoln came very near being drawn into a 
duel very foolishly, but at the same time with a certain kind of 
charaQteristic magnanimity. A lady wrote a satirical poem in al¬ 
lusion to a young lawyer in Springfield, which some mischievous 
person took from her desk, and published in “ The Journal.’’ The 
lawyer, exasperated, called upon the editor, and demanded the 
name of the author. The editor was perplexed. It would seem ig¬ 
noble to escape the responsibility by throwing it upon a lady. He 
consulted Mr. Lincoln, who was a personal friend of the lady. “ In¬ 
form him,” was the prompt reply, “ that I assume the responsibil¬ 
ity.” A challenge was given and accepted. Mr. Lincolu chose 
broad-swords, intending to act simply on the defensive. Friends 
interposed; and the silly rencounter, which, had it resulted in the 
death of Mr. Lincoln, would have proved a great national calam¬ 
ity, was prevented. 

In allusion to this event, Mr. Carpenter says, “ Mr. Lincoln him¬ 
self regarded the circumstance with much regret and mortifica¬ 
tion, and hoped it might be forgotten. In February preceding 
his death, a distinguished officer of the army called at the White 
House, and was entertained by the President and Mrs. Lincoln 
for an hour in the parlor. During the conversation, the gentle¬ 
man said, turning to Mrs. Lincoln, ‘ Is it true, Mr. President, as I 
have heard, that you once went out to fight a duel for the sake 
of the lady by your side?’ — ‘ I do not deny it,’ replied Mr. Lin¬ 
coln ; ^ but, if you desire my friendship, you will never mention the 
circumstance again.’ ” 

In 1842, Mr. Lincoln married Miss Mary Todd, daughter of 
Hon. Robert S. Todd, of Lexington, Ky., who had resided sev¬ 
eral years in Springfield. During the great political contest of 
1844, Mr. Lincoln earnestly .espoused the cause of his political 
idol, Henry Clay. In the canvass, he acquired much celebrity 
as an efficient speaker. His chagrin was intense that an intel¬ 
ligent people could prefer Mr. Polk to Mr. Clay. For a time, he 
mistrusted the capacity of the people for self-government, and 
resolved to have no more to do with politics. 

In 1846, Mr. Lincoln was nominated from the Sangamon District 

49 


386 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


for Congress. He was elected by a very great majority, and in 
December, 1847, took his seat in the thirtieth Congress. During 
the same session, Stephen A. Douglas took his seat in the Senate. 
Mr. Douglas was one of the cliampions of the Democratic party 
in the Senate. Mr. Lincoln was the warm advocate of Whig prin¬ 
ciples in the House. He was opposed to the Mexican War, as 

unnecessarily and unconstitutionally begun by the President of 
the United States.’’ A speech which he made on this subject 
was one of a very high order of ability. His clearness, direct¬ 
ness, vigor of style, and oratorical impressiveness, are all remark¬ 
able. Speaking of President Polk’s apologies for the war, he 
says, — 

“I more than suspect that he is deeply conscious of being in the 
wrong; that he feels that the blood of this war, like the blood of 
Abel, is crying to Heaven against him; that he ordered Gen. Tay¬ 
lor into the midst of a peaceful Mexican settlement, purposely to 
bring on a war ; that originally having some strong motive, which 
I will not stop now to give my opinion concerning, to involve the 
two nations in a war, and trusting to escape scrutiny by the ex¬ 
treme brightness of military glory, — that attractive rainbow 
that rises in showers of blood, that serpent’s eye that charms to 
destroy, — he plunged into it, and swept on and on, till, disap¬ 
pointed in his calculations of the ease with which Mexico might 
be subdued, he now finds himself he knows not where.” 

War and victories were then something new to the American 
people. Gen. Taylor was nominated in 1848 as the Whig candi¬ 
date for the presidency. Gen. Cass was the Democratic candidate. 
Gen. Taylor had said, in accepting the nomination, — 

“ Upon the subject of the tariff, the currency, the improvement 
of our great highways, rivers, lakes, and harbors, the will of the 
people, as expressed through their representatives in Congress, 
ought to be respected and carried out by the Executive.” * 

Mr. Lincoln, pithily and approvingly commenting upon thig, 
said, “ The people say to Gen. Taylor, ‘ If j^ou are elected, shall 
we have a national bank ? ’ He answers, ^ Your will, gentlemen, 
not mine.’ — ‘What about the tariff?’ — ‘ Say yourselves.’— ‘ Shall 
our rivers and harbors be improved? ’ — ‘Just as you please. If 
you desire a bank, an alteration in the tariff, internal improvements, 
any or all, I will not hinder you ; if you do not desire them, I will 
not attempt to force them on you. Send up your members to Con- 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 


387 


gress from the various districts, with opinions according to your 
own; and if they are for these measures, or any of them, I shall 
have nothing to oppose ; if they are not for them, I shall not, by. 
any appliances whatever, attempt to dragoon them into their ac¬ 
complishment.^ 

In a certain sense,^^ Mr. Lincoln continued, and to a certain 
extent, the President is a representative of the people. He is 
elected by them as Congress is. But can he, in the nature of 
things, know the wants of the people as well as three hundred 
other men coming from all the various localities of the nation? 
If so, where is the propriety of having Congress?’^ 

This was the platform upon which Mr. Lincoln ever stood. It 
was understood that Gen. Taylor-was opposed to'the Mexican 
War. He certainly advocated an offensive instead of a defensive 
attitude. Mr. Lincoln cordially supported him in preference to 
Gen. Cass, the Democratic candidate. He advocated the Wilmot 
Proviso, which excluded slavery from the Territories. He pre¬ 
pared a bill which declared that no person hereafter horn in the 
District of Columbia should be held a slave, and which also en¬ 
couraged emancipation. At the same time, there is evidence, that, 
while his sympathies were strongly against slavery, he still then 
thought that slaves were recognized as property under the Con¬ 
stitution. Still he afterwards denied, in a controversy with Doug¬ 
las, that the “right of property in a slave is distinctly and ex¬ 
pressly affirmed in the Constitution.” At the close of his two 
.years’ term of service in Washington, he returned to Springfield, 
and assiduously devoted himself to the duties of his profession. 
He was always ready to advocate the cause of the poor and the 
oppressed, however small the remuneration, or great the obloquy 
incurred. The fugitive slave never appealed to him in vain. 

In 1854, the proslavery party secured the abrogation of the 
Missouri Compromise, and thus threw open the whole of the 
North-west to the invasion of slavery. This outrage roused the in¬ 
dignation of Mr. Lincoln. He had long and anxiously watched 
the encroachments of slavery; and he now became convinced that 
there could be no cessation of the conflict until either slavery or 
freedom should gain the entire victory. Stephen A. Douglas, 
with whom Mr. Lincoln had long been more or less intimately as¬ 
sociated, was responsible for the bill repealing the Missouri Com¬ 
promise. It was regarded as his hid for Southern votes to secure 
the presidency. 


388 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


Mr. Douglas was a man of great intellectual power, and of eon. 
summate tact and skill in debate. In October, 1854, he attended 
a State fair in Springfield, Ill., and addressed a vast assemblage 
in defence of the Kansas-Nebraska Bill as it was called. The 
next day, Mr. Lincoln replied to him, in a speech three hpurs in 
length. “ The Springfield Republican,” in its report, says, — 

“ He quivered with emotion. The whole house was still as 
death. He attacked the bill with unusual warmth and energy; 
and all felt that a man of strength was its enemy, and that he 
intended to blast it, if he could, by strong and manly efibrts. He 
was most successful; and the house approved the glorious triumph 
of truth by long and loud continued huzzas. Women waved their 
handkerchiefs in token of woman’s silent but heartfelt consent.” 

The fundamental principle of the Kansas-Nebraska Bill was, 
that the white people in the Territories had a right to decide 
whether or not they would enslave the colored people. Thus pithi¬ 
ly Mr. Lincoln replied to it: — 

My distinguished friend says it is an insult to the emigrants 
to Kansas and Nebraska to suppose that they are not able to 
govern themselves. We must not slur over an argument of this 
kind because it happens to tickle the ear. It must be met and 
answered. I admit that the emigrant to Kansas and Nebraska is 
competent to govern himself; but I deny his right to govern any 
other person without that person's consent." 

It was the almost universal testimony, that, in this meeting at 
Springfield, Mr. Douglas was vanquished. Mr. Douglas went to 
Peoria. Mr. Lincoln followed him. The public excitement drew 
an immense crowd. Again these able and illustrious men met in 
the sternest conflict of argument. Mr. Lincoln’s speech upon 
this occasion was fully reported. It was read with admiration all 
over the Union, and was generally considered an unanswerable 
refutation of the positions assumed by Mr. Douglas. One portion 
we will quote, since it has a direct bearing upon one of the ques¬ 
tions now deeply exciting the public mind. 

Mr. Douglas had assumed that it was a question of no impor¬ 
tance whatever to the people of Illinois whether men were en¬ 
slaved or not in the Territories. I care not,” he said, “ whether 
slavery is voted up, or voted down, in Kansas.” 

Mr. Lincoln replied, “ By the Constitution, each State has two 
senators; each has a number of representatives in proportion to 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 


389 


the number of its people; and each has a number of presidential 
electors equal to the whole number of its senators and represen¬ 
tatives together. 

“ But, in ascertaining the number of the people for the purpose, 
five slaves are counted as being equal to three whites. The 
slaves do not vote. They are only counted, and so used as to 
swell the influence of the white people’s vote. The practical ef¬ 
fect of this is more aptly shown by a comparison of the States 
of South Carolina and Maine. South Carolina has six representa¬ 
tives, and so has Maine. South Carolina has eight presidential 
electors, and so has Maine. This is precise equality so far; and 
of course they are equal in senators, each having two. 

“But how are they in the number of their white people? 
Maine has 581,613. South Carolina has 274,567. Maine has twice 
as many as South Carolina, and 32,679 over.' ’Thus each white 
man in South Carolina is more than double any man in Maine. 
This is all because South Carolina, besides her free people, has 
387,984 slaves.” 

It is now proposed that all these colored people, to whom South 
Carolina refuses the rights of freemen, should be counted in the 
representation, thus not only continuing but augmenting this in¬ 
equality. If they are admitted to the rights of citizenship, then 
their votes will be thrown for such measures as they approve; 
but if they are denied the rights of citizens, and are yet counted 
in the representation, it more than doubles the political power of 
their former masters, and leaves the freedmen utterly helpless in 
their hands. In a letter which Mr. Lincoln wrote, Aug. 24, 1855, 
he says, — 

“ You inquire where I now stand. That is a disputed point. 
I think I am a Whig; but others say that there are no Whigs, 
and that I am an abolitionist. When I was in Washington, I 
voted for the Wilmot Proviso as good as forty times, and I never 
heard of any attempt to unwhig me for that. I do no more than 
oppose the extension of slavery. Our progress in degeneracy ap¬ 
pears to me to be pretty rapid. As a nation, we began by declar¬ 
ing that ‘ all men are created equal.’ We now practically read it, 
^ All men are created equal, except negroes.’ I am not a Know- 
Nothing; that’s certain. How could I be? How can any one, who 
abhors the oppression of the negroes, be in favor of degrading 
classes of white people ? When the Know-Nothings get control, it 


a9o 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


will read, ‘All men are created equal, except negroes and for¬ 
eigners and Catholics.^ When it comes to that, I should prefer 
emigrating to some country where they ma*ke no pretence of lov¬ 
ing liberty, — to Russia, for instance, where despotism can be 
taken pure, without the base alloy of hypocrisy/^ 

The new Republican party, embracing all of every name who 
were opposed to slavery extension, was now rising rapidly into 
power, and Mr. Lincoln cordially connected himself with it. He 
assisted in organising the party in Illinois, and on the occasion 
made a speech, of which it was said, “ Never was an audience 
more completely electrified by human eloquence. Again and 
again, during the progress of its delivery, they sprang to their 
feet and upon the benches, and testified, by long-continued 
shouts and the waving of their hats, how deeply the speaker had 
wrought upon their minds and hearts.’’ 

Abraham Lincoln was now the most prominent man in the Re¬ 
publican party in all the West. His name was presented to the 
National Convention for the vice-presidency, to be placed upon 
the ticket with John C. Fremont; but Mr. Dayton was the suc¬ 
cessful competitor. During this campaign, he was rudely inter¬ 
rupted, in a glowing speech he was making, by some one crying 
out from the crowd, — 

“ Mr. Lincoln, is it true that you entered this State barefoot, 
driving a yoke of oxen ? ” 

Mr. Lincoln paused for nearly a minute, while there was breath¬ 
less silence, and then said very deliberately, “ I think that I can 
prove the fact by at least a dozen men in this crowd, any one of 
whom is mure respectable than the questioner.” Then, resuming 
his impassioned strain as if he had not been interrupted, he said, 
“ Yes, we will speak for freedom and against slavery as long as 
the Constitution of our country guarantees free speech; until 
everywhere on this wide land the sun shall shine, and the rain 
shall fall, and the wind shall blow, upon no man who goes forth to 
unrequited toil.” 

The Missouri mob had now formed the Lecompton Constitution, 
imposing slavery upon Kansas; and the President had given it his 
sanction. The country was agitated as never before. Mr. Doug¬ 
las had thrown open the North-west to the slave-power. It was 
capable of demonstration, that the Lecompton Constitution was 
not the act of the people of Kansas. Any thoughtful man could 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 


391 


have been assured that it would not secure tne support of the 
people of the United States. The Silliman Memorial, to which 
we have referred, was exerting a wide influence; and conscien¬ 
tious men of all parties were denouncing the fraud. Under these 
circumstances, Mr. Douglas abandoned the base forgery, and took 
his stand upon the platform of the Silliman Memorial. The Demo¬ 
cratic State Convention of Illinois indorsed his position. Still, 
Mr. Douglas had not changed his fundamental position. He still 
advocated the opening of the Territory, which had been conse¬ 
crated to freedom, to the entrance of slavery; and he still would 
allow the white inhabitants of the Territory, in their constitution, to 
decide whether or not they would perpetuate the enslavement of 
the colored inhabitants. But he would not support the doings 
of an armed mob from Missouri, which had invaded Kansas, chosen 
a legislature, and framed a constitution. Upon this point, he broke 
away from Mr. Buchanan and his administration. 

The Republicans of Illinois were not willing to send back to 
the Senate one who was the author of the Kansas-Nebraska Bill; 
but Mr. Douglas was the recognized leader of the Democratic 
party in Illinois, and they rallied around him. The Republican 
State Convention .met at Springfield on the 16th of ^une, 1858. 
Nearly one thousand delegates were present. Mr. Lincoln was 
unanimously nominated for the Senate in opposition to Mr. Doug¬ 
las. In the evening, he addressed the convention at the State 
House. The following extracts will give some faint idea of this 
remarkable speech: — 

“‘A house divided against itself cannot stand.’ I believe that 
this Government cannot endure permanently half-slave and half- 
free. I do not expect the Union to be dissolved; I do not expect 
the house to fall: but I do expect that it will cease to be divided. 
It will become all one thing, or all another. Either the opponents 
of slavery will arrest the further spread of it, and place it where 
the public mind shall rest in the belief that it is in the course of 
ultimate extinction, or its advocates will push it forward till it 
shall become alike lawful in all the States, old as well as new, 
North as well as South. 

‘<In the notable argument of squatter sovereignty, otherwise 
called ‘ sacred right of self-government,’ this latter phrase, tliough 
expressive of the only rightful basis of any goverftment, is so 
perverted in this attempted use of it, as to amount to just this,— 


392 


' LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


that, if any one man choose to enslave another, no third man 
shall be allowed to object.” 

The campaign was now fairly opened. After one or two 
speeches, in which Mr. Douglas and Mr. Lincoln addressed the 
same audiences, but at different meetings, Mr. Lincoln, on the 
24th of July, 1858, sent a proposition to M>. Douglas that they 
should make arrangements to speak at the same meetings, divid¬ 
ing the time between them. The proposition was agreed to for 
seven towns. At the first, Mr. Douglas was to speak for an hour, 
and Mr. Lincoln for an hour and a half; then Mr. Douglas was to 
have the closing speech of half an hour. At the next, the time 
occupied was to be rever3ed. Thus they were to alternate until 
the close. 

The first meeting was at Ottowa. Twelve thousand citizens 
had assembled. Mr. Douglas had the opening speech. ‘ The 
friends of Mr. Lincoln were roused to the greatest enthusiasm by 
his triumphant reply upon this occasion, and they almost literally 
bore him from the stage upon their shoulders. Immense crowds 
attended every meeting. Both speeches were carefully reported. 
The whole nation looked on with interest. The Republican party 
were so well pleased with Mr. Lincoln’s success, that they pub¬ 
lished in one pamphlet the speeches on both sides, and circu¬ 
lated them widely as a campaign document. The verdict of the 
nation has been, that Mr. Lincoln was morally and intellectually 
the victor. 

By an unfair apportionment of the legislative districts, Mr. Lin¬ 
coln was beaten in his contest for a seat in the Senate ; but, very 
unexpectedly to himself, he won a far higher prize. Mr. Lincoln 
made about sixty speeches during the canvass. When asked how 
he felt after his defeat, he replied characteristically, “ I felt like 
the boy who had stubbed his toe,—too badly to laugh, and too big 
to cry.” 

Mr. Lincoln was now a man of national fame. He was recog¬ 
nized as one of the ablest statesmen and one-of the most eloquent 
men in the nation. He was a good writer, an able debater, a man 
of well-disciplined mind, and extensive attainments in political 
science. In years long since past, he had helped to split rails to 
fence in a farm. Unwisely, the Republican party introduced 
this statesman and orator, and man of noble character, to the 
country as the rail-splitter.” 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 


393 


“ It took years,” says Mr. Holland, in his admirable ^‘Life of Abra¬ 
ham Lincoln,” “ for the country to learn that Mr. Lincoln was not a 
boor. It took them years to unlearn what an unwise and boyish 
introduction of a great man to the public had taught them. It 
took years for them to comprehend the fact, that, in Mr. Lincoln, 
the country had the wisest, truest, gentlest, noblest, most saga¬ 
cious President who had occupied the chair of state since Wash¬ 
ington retired from it.” 

He visited Kansas, where he was received with boundless en¬ 
thusiasm. He visited Ohio, and crowds thronged to hear him. 
His renown was now such, that he wafe invited to address the citi¬ 
zens of New York at the Cooper Institute. The hall was crowded 
to its utmost capacity by the most distinguished men of that city 
of great names. Mr. Lincoln’s address was a signal success. All 
were delighted. Round after round of applause greeted his tell¬ 
ing periods. Mr. Bryant, in giving a report in The Evening 
Post,” said, ‘^For the publication of such words of weight and 
wisdom as those of Mr. Lincoln, the pages of this journal are in¬ 
definitely elastic.” The speech was published as a campaign 
document, and widely circulated. It might be called a scholarly 
performance. Its logic was faultless. In diction, it presented 
one of the finest specimens of pure Saxon English. Its illustra¬ 
tions and historic references indicated wide reading. 

In New York, everybody was charmed with the artlessness, 
frankness, intelligence, and lovely character of the man. Invita¬ 
tions to speak were crowded upon him. He addressed immense 
audiences at Hartford, New Haven, Meriden, and Norwich. It 
was unquestionably greatly through his influence that the State 
of Connecticut that year gave a Republican majority. The ability 
which he displayed was very remarkable. A distinguished cler¬ 
gyman said, “ I learned more of the art of public speaking, in 
listening to Mr. Lincoln’s address last evening, than I could have 
learned from a whole course of lectures on rhetoric.” A profess¬ 
or of rhetoric in Yale College took notes of his speech, and made 
them the subject of a lecture to his class the next day. He also 
followed Mr. Lincoln to his next appointment, that he might hear 
him again. “ What was it ? ” inquired Mr. Lincoln of the Rev. Mr. 
Gulliver, who was complimenting him upon his speech, “ which 
interested you so much ? ” The reply was, It was the clearness 
60 


894 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


of your reasoning, and especially your illustrations, which were 
romance and pathos, and fun and logic, all welded together.’^ 

Alluding to the threats of the proslavery men that they would 
break up the Union should slavery be excluded from the Territo* 
ries, he said, — 

‘‘Ill that supposed event, you say you will destroy the Union; 
and then you say the great crime of having destroyed it will be 
upon us. That is cool. A highwayman holds a pistol to my ear, 
and mutters through' his teeth, ‘ Stand and deliver, ov I shall kill 
you, and then you will be a murderer! ’ To be sure, what the 
robber demands of me — my money — was my own, and I had a 
clear right to keep it; but it was no more my own than my vote 
is my own. And threat of death to me to extort my money, and 
threat of destruction to the Union to extort my vote, can scarcely 
be distinguished in principle.’’ 

In conversation with Rev. Mr. Gulliver at this time, Mr. Lin-, 
coin said, in reply to the question, “ What has your education 
been ? ”—“ Well, as to education, the newspapers are correct. I 
never went to school more than six months in my life. I can say 
this,—that, among my earliest recollections,! remember how, when 
a mere child, I used to get irritated when anybody talked to me 
in a way I could not understand. I don’t think I ever got angry 
at any thing else in my life; but that always disturbed my temper, 
and has ever since. I can remember going to my little bedroom, 
after hearing the neighbors talk of an evening wdth*my father, and 
spending no small part of the night walking up and down, and 
trying to make out what was the exact meaning of some of their, 
to me, dark sayings. 

“ I could not sleep, although I often tried to, when I got on 
such a hunt after an idea, until I had caught it: and, when I 
thought I had got it, I was not satisfied until I had repeated it 
over and over; until I had put it in language plain enough, as I 
thought, for any boy I knew to comprehend. This was a kind of 
passion with me, and it has stuck by me; for I am never easy 
now, when I am handling a thought, till I have bounded it north, 
and bounded it south, and bounded it east, and bounded it west. 

“But your question reminds me of a bit of education which I 
am bound in honesty to mention. In the course of my law-read¬ 
ing, I constantly came upon the word demonstrate. I thought, at 
Grst, that I understood its meaning, but soon became satisfied 


ABBAUAM LINCOLN. 


395 


that I did not. I said to myself, ^ What db I mean when I demon* 
strate, more than when I reason or prove? How does demonstra* 
lion differ from any other proof?’ 1 consulted Webster’s Dic¬ 
tionary. That told of ‘ certain proof,’ ‘ proof beyond the possi¬ 
bility of doubt; ’ but I could form ho sort of idea what sort of 
proof that was. I thought that a great many things were proved 
beyond the possibility of a doubt, without recourse to any such 
extraordinary process of reasoning as I understood demonstration 
to bo. 

I consulted all the dictionaries and books of reference I could 
find, but with no better results. You miglit as well have defined 
Uue to a blind man. At last, I said, ^ Lincoln, you can never make 
a lawyer if you do not understand what demonstrate means; ’ and 
I left my situation in Springfield, went home to my father’s house, 
and staid there until I could give any proposition in the six books' 
of Euclid at sight. I then found out what demonstrate means, 
and went back to my law-studies.” 

The superintendent of the Five-points’ Sabbath School relates 
the following incident in reference to Mr. Lincoln during his visit 
to that city : “ One Sunday morning, I saw a tall, remarkable-look¬ 
ing man enter the room, and take a seat among us. He listened 
with fixed attention to our exercises; and his countenance ex¬ 
pressed such a genuine interest, that I approached him, and sug¬ 
gested that he might be willing to say something to the children. 
He accepted the invitation with evident pleasure, and, coming 
forward, began a simple address, which at once fascinated every 
little hearer, and hushed the room into silence. His language 
was exceedingly beautiful, and his tones musical with intense feel¬ 
ing. The little faces would droop into sad conviction as he ut¬ 
tered sentences of warning, and would .brighten into sunshine as 
he spoke cheerful words of promise. Once or twice he attempted 
to close his remarks ; but the imperative shout of ‘Go on! oh, do 
go on I ’ would compel him to resume. As I looked upon the 
gaunt and sinewy frame of the stranger, and marked his powerful 
head and determined features, now touched into softness by the 
impressions of the moment, I felt an irrepressible curiosity to 
learn something more about him; and, while he was quietly leav¬ 
ing the room, I begged to know his name. ‘ It is Abraham Lin¬ 
coln, from Illinois.’ ” 

The secessionists had now resolved, at all hazards, to break up 


396 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


the Union. The great object was to find a plausible excuse. 
The real reason was, that the free States were increasing so rap¬ 
idly, both in number and population, that the slave States could 
no longer retain the direction of the Government. They at that 
time had possession of the government, of the army, the navy, the 
treasury. They scattered the navy, dispersed the army, dis¬ 
mantled the forts and arsenals in the free States, accumulated 
arms and munitions of war in the slave States, and squandered 
the money in the treasury. They hoped thus to render the Na¬ 
tional Government impotent. 

They declared, that, should the Republican party nominate, and 
elect to the presidency, a man who was opposed to slavery, they 
would break up the Union. They then did every thing in their 
power, in a ‘treacherous and underhand way, to secure the elec¬ 
tion of a Republican President, that they might have this fancied 
excuse for their revolt. Future ages will scarcely credit these 
assertions ; but no intelligent man at the present time will deny 
them. 

In the spring of 1860, the Democratic party held its National 
Convention in Charleston, S. C., to nominate its candidate for 
the presidency.* The proslavery men halted, that they might 
break up the party, and thus secure the election of. a Re¬ 
publican candidate. They succeeded. The regular Democratic 
Convention nominated Stephen A. Douglas. The secession party 
organized what they called a’Constitutional Convention, and nomi¬ 
nated John C. Breckenridge, one of the most radical of the pro¬ 
slavery men. A. National Union Convention met, and nominated 
John Bell. This division rendered it almost certain that the Re¬ 
publican nominee, whoever he might be, would be elected. The 
secessionists were jovial, and pressed on in the preparation for 
decisive action. 

The great Republican Convention met at Chicago on the 16th 
of June, 1860. The delegates and strangers who crowded the 
city amounted to twenty-five thousand. An immense building, 
called “ The Wigwam,^^ was reared to accommodate the Convention. 
There were eleven candidates for whom votes were thrown. 
William H. Seward, a man whose fame as a statesman had long 
filled the land, was the most prominent. It was generally supposed 
that he would be the nominee. On the first ballot, Mr. Seward 
received one hundred and seventy-three and a half votes, and 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 


397 


Abraham Lincoln one hundred and two. Nearly all the votes 
were now concentred upon these two candidates. Upon the 
second ballot, Mr. Seward received one hundred and eighty-four 
and a half votes, and Mr. Lincoln one hundred and eighty-one. 
And now came the third ballot, which, it was very evident, would 
be decisive. Abraham Lincoln received two hundred and thirty- 
one and a half votes, lacking but one vote and a half of an election. 
Immediately one of the delegates from Ohio rose, and^ transferred 
the four votes of Ohio to Mr. Lincoln. This gave him the nomi- . 
nation. We cannot better describe the scene which ensued than 
in the language of Mr. Holland: — 

The excitement had culminated. After a moment's pause, like 
the sudden and breathless stillness that precedes the hurricane, the 
storm of wild, uncontrollable, and almost insane enthusiasm, de¬ 
scended. The scene surpassed description. During all the ballot- 
ings, a man had been standing upon the roof, communicating the 
results to the outsiders, who, in surging masses, far outnumbered, 
those who were packed into the Wigwam. To this man one of the 
secretaries shouted, ‘ Fire the salute ! Abe Lincoln is nominated I' 
Then, as the cheering inside died away, the roar began on the out¬ 
side, and swelled up from the excited masses, like the voice of 
many waters. This the insiders heard, and to it they replied. 
Thus deep called to deep with such a frenzy of sympathetic 
enthusiasm, that even the thundering salute of cannon was unheard 
by many on the platform." 

When this burst of enthusiasm had expended itself, it was moved 
that the nomination should be unanimous; and it was made 
so. Mr. Lincoln was at this time at Springfield, two hundred 
miles distant, anxiously awaiting the result of the ballotings. He 
was in the oflSce of The Springfield Journal," receiving the tele¬ 
graphic despatches. At last a messenger came in with a despatch 
in his hand, and announced, — 

“ The Convention has made a nomination, and Mr. Seward is — 
fhe second man on the list." 

The joyful scene which ensued with Mr. Lincoln's friends must 
be imagined. When the excitement had a little subsided, he said, 
‘‘There is a little woman on Eighth Street who has some interest 
in this matter;" and, putting the telegram into his pocket, he 
walked home. Little did he then dream of the weary years of toil 
and care, and the bloody death, to which that telegram doomed him; 


398 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


and as little did he dream that he was to render services to his 
country, which would fix upon him the eyes of the whole civilized 
world, and which would give him a place in the affections and 
reverence of his countrymen, second only, if second, to that of 
Washington. 

The following day, a committee of the Convention waited upon 
him with the announcement of his nomination. As it was known 
that they were to come, some of Mr. Lincoln's friends sent in 
. several hampers of wine for their entertainment. But he was not 
onl}^ a temperance man, but a “ total-abstinence ” man. Resolved 
not to allow that new temptation to induce him to swerve from his 
principles, he returned the gift with kindest words of gratitude 
for the favor intended. 

Mr. Lincoln received the delegation at the door of his house, 
and conducted them into his parlor. Gov. Morgan of New York, 
in appropriate phrase, informed him that he had been unanimously 
nominated by the Convention to the office of President of the 
United States, and asked permission to report his acceptance. 
At the close of the ceremony, Mr. Lincoln said, in substance,— 

‘‘ As a suitable conclusion of an interview so important, courtesy 
requires that I should treat the committee with something to 
drink.’' Then, stepping to the door, he called ^^Mary, Mar}" I ” A 
young girl responded to the call. He said a few words to her in 
a low tone of voice, and closed the door. In a few moments, the 
girl entered, bringing a large waiter containing a pitcher and 
several tumblers, which she placed upon a centre-table. Mr. 
Lincoln then rose, and said,— 

“ Gentlemen, we must pledge our mutual healths in the most 
healthy beverage which God has given to man. It is the only 
beverage I have ever used or allowed in my family; and I cannot 
conscientiously depart from it on this occasion. It is pure Adam’s 
ale, from the spring.” ’ 

Taking a tumbler, he touched it to his lips; and all his guests 
followed his example. The President subsequently related the 
following singular incident as having taken place at that time: — 

“A very singular occurrence took place the day I was nominat¬ 
ed at Chicago, of which I am reminded to-night. In the after¬ 
noon of the day, returning home from down town, I went up stairs 
to Mrs. Lincoln’s sitting-room. Peeling somewhat tired, I lay 
down upon a couch in the room, directly opposite a bpreau, upon 


ABR'AnAM LINCOLN. 


399 


wliich was a looking-glass. As I reclined, my eye fell upon the 
glass, and I saw distinctly two images of mysejf, exactly alike, 
except that one was a little paler than the other. I arose, and lay 
down again with the same result. It made me quite uncomforta¬ 
ble for a few moments; but, some friends coming in, the matter 
passed out of my mind. 

The next day, while walking in the street, I was suddenly 
reminded of the circumstance ; and the disagreeable sensation pro¬ 
duced by it returned. I determined to go home, and place myself 
in the same position; and, if the same effect was produced, I would 
make up my mind that it was the natural result of some principle 
of refraction or optics which I did not understand, and dismiss it. 
I tried the experiment with a like result; and, as I said to myself, 
accounting for it on some principle unknown to me, it ceased to 
trouble me. 

But, some time ago, I tried to produce the same effect here by 
arranging a glass and couch in the same position, without effect. 
My wife was some.what w'orried about it. She thought it was a 
sign that I was to be elected to a second term of office, and that the 
paleness of one of the faces was an omen that I should not see life 
through the second term.’^ 

At the time of his nomination, Mr. Lincoln was fifty-two years 
of age. There was then but little doubt that he would be elected. 
Crowds flocked to pay their homage to one, who, as President, 
would soon have so immense a patronage at his disposal. It 
became necessary that a room should be set apart in the State 
House for his receptions. From morning till night, he was 
busy. In looking over a book which his friends had prepared, 
and which contained the result of a careful canvass of the city of 
Springfield, showing how each man would vote, he was surprised 
and greatly grieved to find-that most of the ministers were against 
him. As he closed the book, he said sadly,— 

“ Here are twenty-three ministers of different denominations, 
and all of them are against me but three. Mr. Bateman, I am not 
a Christian; God knows, I would be one : but I have carefully read 
the Bible, and I do not so understand this book. These men well 
know that I am for freedom in the Territories, freedom everywhere 
as far as the Constitution and laws will permit; and that my oppo¬ 
nents are for slavery. They know this ;' and yet with this book 
in their hands, in the light of which human bondage cannot live 


400 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


a moment, they are going to vote against me. I do not understand 
tliis.’^ 

Then, after a moments pause, he added, ‘‘ Doesn’t it appear 
strange that men can ignore the moral aspects of this contest ? A 
revelation could not make it plainer to me that slavery or the 
Government must be destroyed. It seems as if God had borne 
with this slavery until the very teachers of religion have come to 
defend it from the Bible, and to claim for it a divine character 
and sanction; .and now the cup of iniquity is full, and the vials 
of wrath will be poured out.” 

The election-day came. Mr. Lincoln received a hundred and 
eighty electoral votes; Mr. Douglas, twelve; Mr. ‘ Breckenridge, 
seventy-two; Mr. Bell, thirty-nine. The result of the election was 
known early in November. Nearly four months would transpire 
before the 4th of March, 1861, when he was to enter upon his 
term of oflSce. 

The spirit manifested by the slaveholders on this occasion is 
fairly developed in the following article contained in “ The Rich¬ 
mond Examiner” of April 23, 1861: — 

The capture of Washington City is perfectly within the power 
of Virginia and Maryland, if Virginia will only make the effort by 
her constituted authorities; nor is there a single moment to ose. 
The entire population pant for the onset. There never was half 
the unanimity among the people before, nor a tithe of the zeal upon 
any subject, that is now manifested to take Washington, and drive 
from it every black Republican who is a dweller there. 

“ From the mountain-tops and valleys to the shores of the sea, 
there is one wild shout of fierce resolve to capture Washington City 
at all and every human hazard. That filthy cage of unclean biVds 
must and will assuredly be purified by fire. The people are 
determined upon it, and are clamorous for a leader to conduct 
them to the onslaught. The leader will assuredly arise ; ay, and 
that right speedily. 

“ It is not to be endured that this flight of abolition harpies shall 
come down from the black North for their roosts in the heart 
of the South, to defile and brutalize the land. They come as our 
enemies. They act as our most deadly foes. They promise us 
bloodshed and fire; and that is the only promise they have ever 
redeemed. The fanatical yell for the immediate subjugation of the 
whole South is going up hourly from the united voices of all the 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 


401 


North ; and, for the purpose of making their work sure, they have 
determined to hold Washington City as the point whence to carry 
on their brutal warfare. 

Our people can take it; they will take it; and Scott the arch¬ 
traitor, and Lincoln the beast, combined, cannot prevent it. The 
just indignation of an outraged and deeply-injured people will 
teach the Illinois ape to repeat his race, and retrace his journey 
across the border of the free negro States still more rapidly than 
he came; and Scott the traitor will be given the opportunity at 
the same time to try the difference between ‘ Scott’s Tactics ’ and 
the ‘ Shanghae Drill ’ for quick movements. 

“ Great cleansing and purification are needed, and will be given 
to that festering sink of iniquity, that wallow of Lincoln and 
Scott, — the desecrated city of Washington; and many indeed 
will be the carcasses of dogs and caitiffs that will blacken the air 
upon the gallows before the great work is accomplished. So let 
it be!” 

One naturally pauses to inquire the cause of all this wrath; 
and no one can refrain from being amused to find that it was sim¬ 
ply that a majority of the nation were opposed to the extension of 
slavery into the Territories, and that that majority had constitu¬ 
tionally elected as President one of the best and most eminent 
men in the nation, who was pledged to oppose, so far as he consti¬ 
tutionally could, slavery-extension. Again and again, Mr. Lincoln 
had declared, and so had the party which elected him, that he had 
no right to interfere with slavery in the States; that the compro¬ 
mises of the Constitution left that question with each State ; and 
that he had no power to touch the domestic institutions of the 
States, except as a war-measure, in the case of war, to save the 
nation from ruin. 

On Mr. Lincoln’s journey to Washington, he made numerous 
addresses to the multitudes who thronged to greet him. At Cin¬ 
cinnati, a large number of Kentuckians were present. He said to 
them in a pla^Tul way, — 

You perhaps want to know what we will do with you. I will 
tell you, so far as I am authorized to speak. We mean to treat 
you, as near as we possibly can, as Washington, Jefferson, and 
Madison treated you. We mean to leave you alone, and in no 
way to interfere with your institutions; to abide by all and every 
compromise of the Constitution; in a word, coming back to the 

51 


402 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


original proposition, to treat you, as far as degenerate men (if we 
have degenerated) may, according to the examples of those noble 
fathers, Washington, Jefferson, and Madison. We mean to remem¬ 
ber that you are as good as we; that there is no difference be- 
twe.f^n us other than the difference of circumstances. We mean 
to recognize and bear in mind always that you have as good hearts 
in your bosoms as other people, or as good as we claim to have ; 
and treat you. accordingly.’^ 

At Buffalo he said, Your worthy mayor has thought fit to ex¬ 
press the hope that I shall be able to relieve the country from the 
present, or, I should say, the threatened difficulties. I am sure 
that I bring a heart true to the work. For the ability to perform 
it, I trust in that Supreme Being who has never forsaken this fa¬ 
vored land. Without that assistance, I shall surely fail; with it, I 
cannot fail.” 

At Philadelphia, where he was received with the greatest enthu¬ 
siasm, he gave utterance to the following noble sentiments: ‘‘ 1 
have often inquired of myself what great principle or idea it was 
that kept this confederacy so long together. It was not the mere 
matter of the separation of the colonies from the mother-land, 
but that sentiment in the Declaration of Independence which gave 
liberty, not alone to the people of this country, but, I hope, to the 
world for all future time. ' It was that which gave promise, that, 
in due time, the weight would be lifted from the shoulders of all 
men. This was a sentiment embodied in the Declaration of Inde¬ 
pendence. Now, my friends, can this country be saved on this 
basis ? If it can, I shall consider myself one of the happiest men 
in the world if I can help save it; if it cannot be saved on that 
principle, it will be truly awful. But, if this country cannot be 
saved without giving up that principle, I was about to say I 
would rather be assassinated upon this spot than surrender it. 
Now, in my view of the present aspect of affairs, there need be no 
bloodshed or war. There is no necessity for it. I am not in favor 
of such a course ; and I may say in advance, that there will be no 
bloodshed unless it be forced upon the Government, and then it 
will be compelled to act in self-defence.” 

At Harrisburg, where there was a large military display, he 
remarked, While I am exceedingly gratified to see the mani¬ 
festation in your streets of the military force here, and exceedingly 
gratified at your promise here to use that force upon a proper 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 


403 


emergency, I desire to repeat, to preclude any possible miscon¬ 
struction, that I do most sincerely hope that we shall have no use for 
them; that it will never become their duty to shed blood, and 
most especially never to shed fraternal blood. I promise, that, so 
far as I may have wisdom to direct, if so painful a result shall in 
any wise be brought about, it shall be through no fault of mine.’^ 

Ill South Carolina, four days after the election, a bill was intro¬ 
duced into the legislature, calling out ten thousand volunteers; 
her two senators in congress resigned their seats; and a conven¬ 
tion was called to pass an act of secession. The rebels had made 
their preparations for vigorous action. They had nothing to fear 
from Mr. Buchanan, and their object was to get their strength 
consolidated before Mr. Lincoln should come into power. 

On the 27th of December, 1860, Fort Moultrie and Castle Pinck¬ 
ney were seized, and the reveniie-cutter “ William Aikin taken 
possession of at Charleston. Three days after, the arsenal was 
seized. On the 2d of January, 1861, Fort Macon in North Caro¬ 
lina, and the arsenal at Fayetteville, fell into the hands of the 
rebels. On the 3d, an armed mob from Georgia took possession 
of Forts Pulaski and Jackson, and the arsenal at Savannah. The 
next day, the 4th, Fort Morgan, and the arsenal at Mobile, were 
seized by a band of Alabamians. On the 8th, Forts Johnson and 
Caswell, at Smithville, N. C., were captured, without a struggle, 
by the rebels. The next day, the 9 th, “ The Star of the 
West,’^ an unarmed steamer bearing supplies to the garrison in 
Fort Sumter, was fired upon by a rebel battery, and driven back. 
On the 12th, Fort M‘Rae, Fort Barrancas, and the navy-yard at 
Pensacola, in Florida, were taken possession of by the rebels. 
The day before, armed gangs in Louisiana seized Forts Pike, St. 
Philip, and Jackson, and the arsenal at Baton Rouge. 

These United-States forts had cost the National Government, 
$5,947,000; were pierced for 1,091 guns, and adapted for a war 
garrison of 5,430 men. Mr. Buchanan did not lift a finger to arrest 
or to resent these outrages. 

On the 17th of December, the convention in South Carolina 
declared the Union dissolved, and that South Carolina was a free, 
sovereign, and independent State. This act was speedily imitated 
by several other slave States. The rapidly-recurring scenes of 
these days of darkness and gloom we have not space here to 
describe. The air was filled with rumors that President Lincoln 


404 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


was to be assassinated on his journey to Washington. In taking 
leave of his friends at the depot in Springfield, he said, in a speech 
full of tenderness and pathos, — 

My friends, no one not in my position can appreciate the 
sadness I feel at this parting. I know not how soon I shall see 
you again. A duty devolves upon me which is perhaps greater 
than that which has devolved upon any other man since the days, 
of Washington. He never would have succeeded except for the 
aid jf Divine Providence, upon which he at all times relied. I 
feel that I cannot succeed without the same divine aid which 
sustained him. In the same Almighty Being I place my reliance 
for support; and I hope that my friends will all pray that I may 
receive that divine assistance, without which I cannot succeed, 
but with which success is certain. Again I bid you all an affec¬ 
tionate farewell.’^ 

In every city through which he passed, he was greeted with 
enthusiasm perhaps never before equalled in the United States. 
It was evident, however, that the secessionists were seeking his 
life. At one time, an attempt was made to throw the train off the 
track. At Cincinnati, a hand-grenade was found concealed upon 
the train. A gang in Baltimore had arranged, upon his arrival, to 
“ get up a row,’’ and, in the confusion, to make sure of his death 
with revolvers and hand-grenades. A detective unravelled the 
plot. A secret and special train was provided to take him from 
Harrisburg, through Baltimore, at an unexpected hour of the 
night. The train started at half-past ten ; and, to prevent any pos¬ 
sible' communication on the part of the secessionists with their 
Confederate gang in Baltimore, as soon as the train had started, 
the telegraph-wires were cut. 

Mr. Lincoln took a sleeping-car, and passed directly through 
Baltimore to Washington, where he arrived at half-past six o’clock 
in the morning. His safe arrival was immediately telegraphed 
over the country. Great anxiety was felt in reference to the 
inauguration-day. Washington was full of traitors. Slavery had 
so debauched the conscience in the slaveholding States, that the 
assassination of a man who did not believe in slavery was scarce 
deemed a crime. 

The week of the inauguration w;as one of the greatest peril and 
anxiety the nation had ever experienced. The air was filled with 
rumors of conspiracies. It was well known that there were 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 


405 


thousands of desperate men, resolved by tumult and murder Id 
prevent the inauguration, and then to seize the capital. Multi¬ 
tudes of strange-looking men thronged the streets of Washington, 
armed with bowie-knives and revolvers. 

The morning of the 4th of March dawned serene and beautiful. 
Even at an early hour-, Pennsylvania Avenue presented such a 
mass of human beings as had never crowded it before. At nine 
o’clock, the procession moved from the White House. It was very 
imposing. A triumphal car, magnificently draped, emblematic 
of the Constitution, bore thirty-four very beautiful young girls, 
picturesquely dressed, as representatives of the several States; 
none being recognized as having seceded. 

Mr. Buchanan and Mr. Lincoln rode side by side in the same 
carriage. They ascended the long fiight of steps of the Capitol 
arm-in-arm. It was observed that Mr. Buchanan looked pale and 
anxious, and that he was nervously excited. Mr. Lincoln’s face 
was slightly flushed, his lips compressed; and his countenance wore 
an expression of great firmness and seriousness. Gen. Scott, in 
his Autobiography, says,— 

The inauguration of President Lincoln was perhaps the most 
critical and hazardous event with which I have ever been con¬ 
nected. In the preceding two months, I had received more than 
fifty letters, many from points distant from each other, some ear¬ 
nestly dissuading me from being present at the event, and others 
distinctly threatening assassination if I dared to protect the cere¬ 
mony by military force.” 

But for the formidable military display, there would unquestion¬ 
ably have been tumult and assassination. Gen. Scott called out 
the Washington Volunteers; brought from a distance two bat¬ 
teries of horse-artillery, with detachments of cavalry and infantry, 
all regulars. The volunteers escorted the President, while the 
regulars flanked the movement, marching in parallel streets. . A 
fine company of sappers and miners led the advance. It was 
under this imposing array of cannon and bayonets that it was 
necessary to conduct the legally-chosen President of the United 
States to his inauguration. 

Mr. Lincoln took his stand upon the platform of the eastern 
portico of the Capitol. Thirty thousand persons stood before him. 
There were many sharpshooters, who, from the distance of nearly 
a mile, could throw a bullet into his heart. It is hardly too 


406 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


‘much to say, that the nation trembled. Mr. Lincoln unrolled a 
manuscript, and in a clear voice, which seemed to penetrate with 
its distinct articulation the remotest ear, read his inaugural. We 
have not space for the whole of this noble document. 

Apprehension,’^ said he, “ seems to exist among the people of 
the Southern States, that, by the accession of a Republican admin¬ 
istration, their property and their peace and personal security are 
to be endangered. There has never been any reasonable cause for 
such apprehension. Indeed, the most ample evidence to the con¬ 
trary has all the while existed, and been open to their inspection. 
It is found in nearly all the published speeches of him who now 
addresses you. I do but quote from one of those speeches, when 
I declare that I have no purpose, directly or indirectly, tq inter¬ 
fere with the institution of slavery in the States where it exists. 
I believe I have no lawful right to do so; and I have no inclina¬ 
tion to do so. Those who nominated and elected me did so with 
the full knowledge that I had made this and made many similar 
declarations, and had never recanted them; and, more than this, 
they placed in the platform, for my acceptance, and as a law to 
themselves and to me, the clear and emphatic resolution which I 
now read: — 

‘ Resolved.) That the maintenance inviolate of the rights of the 
States, and especially the right of each State to order and control 
its own domestic institutions according to its own judgment ex¬ 
clusively, is essential to that balance of power on which the per- 
fection and endurance of our political fabric depend; and we 
denounce the lawless invasion by armed force of the soil of any 
State or Territory, no matter under what pretext, as among the 
gravest of crimes.’ 

I now reiterate these sentiments ; and, in doing so, I only press 
upon the public attention the most conclusive evidence of which 
the case is susceptible, that the property, peace, and security of 
no section are to be in any wise endangered by the now incom¬ 
ing administration. 

I add, too, that all the protection which, consistently with the 
Constitution and the laws, can be given, will be cheerfully given 
to all the States, when lawfully demanded, for whatever cause, as 
cheerfully to one section as to another. 

“ A disruption of the Federal Union, heretofore only menaced, ia, 
now formidably attempted. I hold, that, in the contemplation of 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 


407 


universal law and of the Constitution, the union of these States is 
perpetual. Perpetuity is implied, if not expressed, in the fuiida^ 
mental law of all national governments. It is safe to assert, that 
no government proper ever had a provision in its organic law for 
its own termination. Continue to execute all the express pro¬ 
visions of our National Constitution, and the Union will endure 
forever; it being impossible to destroy it, except by some action 
not provided for in the instrument itself. 

‘‘Again: if the United States be not a government proper, but 
an assovdation of States in the nature of a contract merely, can it, 
as a contract, be peaceably unmade by less than all the parties 
who made it ? One party to a contract may violate it, — break it, 
80 to speak; but does it not require all to lawfully rescind it ? 
Descending from these general principles, we find the proposition, 
that, in legal contemplation, the Union is perpetual, confirmed by 
the history of the Union itself. 

“ The Union is much older than the Constitution. It was 
formed, in fact, by the Articles of Association, in 1774. it was 
matured and continued in the Declaration of Independence, in 
1776. It was further matured, and the faith of all the then thirteen 
States expressly plighted and engaged that it should be perpetual, 
by the Articles of the Confederation, in 1778 ; and finally, in 1778, 
one of the declared objects for ordaining and establishing the 
Constitution was to form a more perfect union. But, if the destruc¬ 
tion of the Union by one or by a part only of the States be law¬ 
fully possible, the Union is less perfect than before; the Constitu¬ 
tion having lost the vital element of perpetuity. 

“ It follows from these views, that no State, upon its own mere 
motion, can lawfully get out of the Union ; that resolves and 
ordinances to that effect are legally void; and that acts of vio¬ 
lence within any State or States, against the authority of the 
United States, are insurrectionary or revolutionary, according to 
circumstances. 

“ I therefore consider, that, in view of the Constitution and the 
laws, the Union is unbroken; and,-to the extent of my ability, I 
shall take care, as the Constitution itself expressly enjoins upon me, 
that the laws of the Union shall be faithfully executed in all the 
States. Doing this, which I deem to be only a simple duty on my 
part, I shall perfectly perform it, so far as is practicable, unless 
my rightful masters, the American people, shall withhold the 


408 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


requisition, or in some authoritative manner direct the con 
trary. 

I trust this will not be regarded as a menace, but only as the 
declared purpose of the Union, that it will constitutionally defend 
and maintain itself. 

“The power confided to me will be used to hold, occupy, and 
possess the property and places belonging to the Government, and 
collect the duties and imposts ; but, beyond what may be neces¬ 
sary for these objects, there will be no invasion, no using of force 
against or among the people anywhere. 

“ All the vital rights of minorities and of individuals are so 
plainly assured to them by aflSrmations and negations, guaranties 
and prohibitions, in the Constitution, that controversies never arise 
concerning them; but no organic law can ever be framed with a 
provision spedifically applicable to every question which may Oc¬ 
cur in practical administration. No foresight can anticipate, nor 
any document of reasonable length contain, express provisions for 
all possible questions. Shall fugitives from labor be surrendered 
by National, or by State authorities? The Constitution does not 
expressly say. Must Congress protect slavery in the Territories ? 
The Constitution does not expressly say. From questions of this 
class spring all our constitutional controversies, and we divide 
upon them into majorities and minorities. 

“ If the minority will not acquiesce, the majority must, or the 
Government must cease. There is no alternative for continuing 
the Government but acquiescence on the one side or the other. 
If a minority in such a case will secede rather than acquiesce, 
they make a precedent, which, in turn, will ruin and divide them ; 
for a minority of their own will secede from them whenever a 
majority refuses to be controlled by such a minority: for in¬ 
stance, why not any portion of a new confederacy, a year or two 
hence, arbitrarily secede again, precisely as portions of the pres¬ 
ent Union now claim to secede from it? All who cherish dis¬ 
union sentiments are now being educated to the exact temper of 
doing this. Is there such perfect identity of interests among the 
States -to compose a new Union as to produce harmony only, and 
prevent secession ? Plainly the central idea of secession is the 
essence of anarchy. 

“ One section of our country believes slavery is right, and 
ought to be extended; while the other believes it is wrong, and 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 


409 


ought not to be extended. And this is the only substantial dis¬ 
pute. Physically speaking, we cannot separate ; we cannot re¬ 
move our respective sections from each other, nor build an impass¬ 
able wall between them. A husband and wife may be divorced, 
and go out of the presence and beyond the reach of each other; 
but the different parts of our country cannot do this. They can¬ 
not but remain face to face; and intercourse, either amicable or 
hostile, must continue between them. Is it possible, then, to 
make that intercourse more advantageous or more satisfactory 
after separation than before? Can aliens make treaties easier 
than friends can make laws? Can treaties be more faithfully en¬ 
forced between aliens than laws can among friends? Suppose 
yon go to war, you cannot fight always; and when, after much 
loss on both sides, and no gain on either, you cease fighting, the 
identical questions as to terms of intercourse are again upon you. 

This country, with its institutions, belongs to the people who 
inhabit it. Whenever they shall grow weary of the existing 
government, they can exercise their constitutional right of amend¬ 
ing, or their revolutionary right to dismember or overthrow it. I 
cannot be ignorant of the fact that many worthy and patriotic 
citizens are desirous of having the National Constitution amended. 
While I make no recommendation of amendment, I fully recognize 
the full authority of the people over the whole subject, to be ex¬ 
ercised in either of the modes prescribed in the instrument 
itself; and I should, under existing circumstances, favor rather 
than oppose a fair opportunity being afibrded the people to act 
upon it. 

My countrymen, pne and all, think calmly and well upon this 
whole subject. Nothing valuable can be lost by taking time. 

If there be an object to hurry any of you in hot haste to a 
step which you would never take deliberately, that object will be 
frustrated by taking time ; but no good object can be frustrated 
by it. 

Such of you as are now dissatisfied still have the old Consti¬ 
tution unimpaired, and, on the sensitive point, the laws of your 
own framing under it; while the new administration will have no 
immediate power, if it would, to change either. 

If it were admitted that you whb are dissatisfied hold the right 
side in the dispute, there is still no single reason for precipitate ac¬ 
tion. Intelligence, patriotism, Christianity, and a firm reliance on 
62 


410 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


Him who has never yet forsaken this favored land,-are still compe^ 
tent to adjust, in the best way, all our present difficulties. 

In your hands, my dissatisfied fellow-countrymen, and not in 
mine, is the momentous issue of civil war. The Government will., 
not assail you. 

“ You can have no conflict without being yourselves the ag¬ 
gressors. You have no oath registered in heaven to destroy the 
Government; while I shall have the most solemn one to ^ preserve, 
protect, and defend ^ it. 

am loath to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We 
must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must 
not break, our bonds of affection. . 

“ The mystic cords of memory, stretching from every battle¬ 
field and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstorre all 
over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when 
again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our 
nature.’^ 

At the close of this solemn and imposing scene, Mr. Lincoln 
was escorted back to the White House, where Mr. Buchanan took 
leave of him. He was asked if he felt alarmed at any time while 
reading his address. His reply was, that he had ofte'n experienced 
greater fear in speaking to a dozen Western men on the subject 
of temperance. 

And now commenced his life of care and toil and sorrow, to ter¬ 
minate in a bloody death. Mr. Lincoln’s conciliatory words had no 
softening influence upon the hearts of the secessionists. They 
knew that it was only by violence and revolution that they could 
so strengthen the institution of slavery as to make it permanent 
upon this continent; and they still believed that the North would 
yield to their demands, rather than appeal to the dreadful arbitrar 
ment of the sword. “ The Yankees,” said one of their speakers, 
are a cowardly race, and I will pledge myself to hold in the hollow 
of my hand and to drink every drop of blood that will be shed." 

The demon of rebellion was unappeased. Treason was every¬ 
where. Openly avowed traitors to the Union were in every 
department of the Government. No step could be taken, and 
there could be no deliberation, which was not immediately re¬ 
ported to the rebels. Seven States were now in revolt. There 
were seven other slave States, which it was absolutely necessary 
the secessionists should secure in order to have any chance of 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 


411 


success. On the 12th of April, the rebels in Charleston opened 
fire upon Fort Sumter. This introduced the war. 

The rebels were so infatuated as to anticipate an easy victory. 

^ They had already inaugurated their government at Montgomery. 
Elated with the news of the bombardment and capture of Fort 
Sumter, Mr. Walker, the rebel Secretary of War, addressing the 
shouting throng, said, — 

‘‘No man can tell where this war, commenced this day, will end ; 
but I will prophesy that the flag which now flaunts the breeze 
bore will float over the' dome of the old Capitol at Washington 
before the 1st of May. Let them try Southern chivalry, and test 
the extent of Southern resources, and it may float eventually over 
Faneuil Hall itself.” 

With wonderful unanimity, the North rallied around the imper¬ 
illed flag of the nation. The rebels crushed out all opposition 
to secession within their borders, and forced every available man 
into the ranks. Mr. Lincoln, three days after the capture of Sum¬ 
ter, issued a proclamation calling for seventy-five thousand troops 
to defend the national capital, which the rebels threatened to seize ; 
and soon after he declared the ports in the rebellious States under 
blockade. 

In an evil hour, Virginia joined the rebels. Terrible was her 
punishment. Mr. Douglas nobly came forward, and gave all of 
his strong influence to Mr. Lincoln. As he read the President's 
proclamation calling for seventy-five thousand men, he said, — 

“ Mr. President, I cordially concur in every word of that docu¬ 
ment, except that, in the call for seventy-five thousand men, I 
would make it two hundred thousand. You do not know the dis¬ 
honest purposes of those men as well as I do.” 

On the 1st of May, Senator Douglas addressed an immense 
gathering in the city of Chicago. Ten thousand persons thronged 
the Wigwam. The eloquent senator spoke in strains which thrilled 
the heart of the nation. “ I beg you to believe,” said he, “that 
I will not do you or myself the injustice to think that this magnifi¬ 
cent ovation is personal to myself. I rejoice to know that it ex¬ 
presses your devotion to the Constitution, the Union, and the flag 
of our country. I will not conceal my gratification at the incon¬ 
trovertible test this vast audience presents, — that whatever polit¬ 
ical differences or party questions may have divided us, yet you 
all had a conviction, that, when the country should be in danger, 


412 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


my loyalty could be relied on. That the present danger is immi¬ 
nent, no man can conceal. If war must come, if the bayonet 
must he used to maintain the Constitution, I say before God, my 
conscience is clean. I have struggled long foV a peaceful solution, 
of the difficulty. I have not only tendered those States what was 
their right, but I have gone to the very extreme of magnanimity. 

‘‘ The return we receive is war, armies marched upon our capi¬ 
tal, obstruction and danger to our navigation, letters of marque 
to invite pirates to prey upon our commerce, and a concerted 
movement to blot out the United States of America from the map 
of the globe. The question is, ‘Are we to maintain the country 
of our fathers, or allow it to be stricken down by those, who, 
when they can no longer govern, threaten to destroy? ’ 

“What cause, what excuse, do disunionists give us for breaking 
up the best government on which the sun of heaven ever shed its 
rays ? They are dissatisfied with the result of the presidential 
election. Did they never get beaten before ? Are we to resort 
to the sword when we get beaten at the ballot-box ? I understand 
it that the voice of the people, expressed in the mode appointed 
by the Constitution, must command the obedience of every citi¬ 
zen. They assume, on the election of a particular candidate, that 
their rights are not safe in the Union. What evidence do they 
present of this ? I defy any man to show any act on which it is 
based. What act has been omitted to be done ? I appeal to these 
assembled thousands, that, so far as the constitutional rights of 
slaveholders are concerned, nothing has been done, and nothing 
omitted, of which they can complain. 

“ There has never been a time, from the day that Washington 
was inaugurated first President of these United States, wdien the 
rights of the Southern States stood firmer under the laws of the 
land than they do now; there never was a time when they had 
not as good cause for disunion as they have to-day. What good 
cause have they now, which has not existed under every adminis¬ 
tration ? 

“ If they say the territorial question, now, for the first time, 
there is no act of Congress prohibiting slavery anywhere. If it 
be the non-enforcement of the laws, the only complaints I have 
heard have been of the too vigorous and faithful fullfilment of 
the Fugitive-slave Law. Then what reason have they? The 
slavery question is a mere excuse. The election of Lincoln is a 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN, 


413 


mere pretext. The present secession movement is the result of 
an enormous conspiracy formed more than a year since, formed by 
leaders in the Southern Confederacy more than twelve months ago. 

But this is no time for the detail of causes. The conspiracy 
13 now known. Armies have been raised, war is levied, to accom¬ 
plish it. There are only two sides to the question. Every man 
must be for the United States or against it. There can be no 
neutrals in this war; only patriots or traitorsP 

We have no space here to enter into the details of the war 
which ensued, which cost half a million of lives, and an expendi¬ 
ture of treasure and a destruction of property which cannot be 
computed. On the 6th of Marcli, 1862, Mr. Lincoln recommended 
that the United States should co-operate with any State which 
may gradually adopt abolishment of slavery, by giving to such 
State pecuniary aid, to be used at its discretion to compensate for 
inconveniences, public and private, produced by such changes of 
system.” 

The rebels were continually cheered by the hope that all the 
border States would join them. Mr. Lincoln invited the represen¬ 
tatives of those States to a conference with him, in which he said 
to them, urging them to accept emancipation with compensation,— 

“ Let the States which are in rebellion see definitely and certain¬ 
ly, that in no event will the States you represent ever join their 
proposed confederacy, and they cannot much longer maintain the 
contest. Can you, for your States, do better than take the course 
I urge ? The incidents of war cannot be avoided. If the war 
continue long, the institution in your States will be extinguished 
by mere friction and abrasion. It will be gone, and you will have 
nothing valuable in lieu of it. Much of its value is gone already. 
IIow much better for you and your people to take the step which 
at once shortens the war, and secures substantial compensation for 
that which is sure to be wholly lost in any other event! How 
much better thus to save the money, which else we sink forever 
jn the war ! ” 

The border-State men were blind and obdurate. Two acts, by 
Mr. Lincoln’s recommendation, were soon passed by Congress. One 
confiscated the slaves of masters who were in open rebellion: the 
other abolished slavery in the District of Columbia. 

He was urged to issue a proclamation of emancipation, before, in 
his judgment, the country was prepared for it. He replied, I do 


414 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


not want to issue a document that the whole world will see must 
necessarily be inoperative, like the Pope’s bull against the comet.” 

At length, he judged that the hour for decisive action had come ; 
and on Monday, Sept. 22, 1862, Mr. Lincoln issued his renowned 
proclamation, declaring that on the 1st of January, 1863, all the 
slaves in States then continuing in rebellion should be free. 

In cabinet-meeting, he said to Mr. Chase, ‘‘ I made a solemn vow 
before God, that, if Gen. Lee should be driven back from Penn¬ 
sylvania, I would crown the result by the declaration of freedom 
to the slaves.” 

The excitement which this proclamation created was intense; 
many applauding, many condemning. In a brief address which he 
soon made, he said, ‘‘ What I did, I did after a very full delibera¬ 
tion, and under a heavy and solemn sense of responsibility. I can 
only trust in God that I have made no mistal^e.” Two years after, 
he was enabled to say, As affairs have turned, it is the central 
act of my administration, and the great event of the nineteenth 
century.” 

President Lincoln gives the following account of the draughting 
of- the proclamation, and the discussion in the cabinet respecting 
it: — 

‘‘ It had got to be midsummer, 1862. Things had gone on from ' 
bad to worse, until I felt that we had reached the end of our 
rope on the plan of operations we had been pursuing; that we had 
about played our last card, and must change our tactics, or lose the 
game. I now determined upon the adoption of the emancipation 
policy; and, without consultation with or the knowledge of the 
cabinet, I prepared the original draught of the proclamation, and, 
after much anxious thought, called a cabinet-meeting upon the 
subject. This was the last of July, or the first part of the month 
of August, 1862. 

This cabinet-meeting took place, I think, upon a Saturday. All 
were present, except Mr. Blair, the Postmaster-General, who was 
absent at the opening of the discussion, but came in subsequently.. 

I said to the cabinet that I had resolved upon this step, and had 
not called them together to ask their advice, but to lay the subject- 
matter of a proclamation before them, suggestions as to which 
would be in order after they had heard it read. 

‘‘Various suggestions were offered. Secretary Chase wished' 
the language stronger in reference to the arming of the blacks. 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 


41 {) 

Mr. Blair, after he came in, deprecated the policy, on the ground 
that it wohld cost the Administration the fall elections. Nothing, 
however, was offered that I had not already fully anticipated, and 
settled in my own mind, until Secretary Seward spoke. He said 
in substance,— 

“ ‘ Mr. President, I approve of the proclamation ; but I question 
the expediency of its issue at this juncture. The depression of 
the public mind, consequent upon our repeated reverses, is so 
great, that I fear the effect of so important a step. It may be 
viewed as the last measure of an exhausted Government, — a cry 
for help; the Government stretching forth her hands to Ethiopia, 
instead of Ethiopia stretching forth her hands to the Government.’ 

“ His idea was,” said Mr. Lincoln, “ that it would be considered 
our last shriek on the retreat. ^ Now,’ continued Mr. Seward, 

^ while I approve the measure, I suggest, sir, that you postpone its 
i{ 3 sue until you can give it to the country supported by military 
success, instead of issuing it, as would be the case now, upon the 
greatest disasters of the war.’ 

“ The wisdom of ‘the view of the Secretary, of State struck me 
with great force. It was an aspect of the case, that, in all my 
thought upon the subject, I had entirely overlooked. The result 
was, that I put the draught of the proclamation aside, waiting for a 
victory. From time to time, I added or changed a line, touching 
it up here and there, anxiously watching the progress of events. 
Well, the next news we had was of Pope’s disaster at Bull Run. 
Things looked darker than ever. Finally came the week of the 
battle at Antietam. I determined to wait no longer. The news 
came, I think, on Wednesday, that the advantage was on our side. 
I was then staying at the Soldiers’ Home, three miles out of Wash- 
ington. Here I finished writing the second draught of the prelimi¬ 
nary proclamation; came up on Saturday; called the cabinet 
together to hear it; and it was published the following Monday.” 

At this final meeting, which took place on the 20th of Septem¬ 
ber, as Mr. Lincoln read the words, “ And the Executive Govern- 
ment of the United States, including the military and naval 
authority thereof, will recognize the freedom of such persons,” 
Mr. Seward interrppted him, saying,— 

I think, Mr. President, that yon should insert after the word 
recognize^ in that sentence, the words dnd TndintciinJ^ 

The President replied, that he had already considered the im- 


416 


UVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


port of that expression in that connection, but that he had refrained 
from inserting it, as he did not like to promise that which he was 
not sure that he could perform. “ But Mr. Seward,^’ said the 
President, “ insisted; and the words went in.^' It so happened 
that there were just one hundred days between the preliminary 
proclamation which was issued on the 22d of September, 1862, 
and the final proclamation which consummated the act of eman¬ 
cipation. 

On the 1st of January, 1863, the final proclamation was issued. 
In his preamble, he alluded to his previous proclamation of prom¬ 
ise, and then said, “ Now therefore, I, Abraham Lincoln, President 
of the United States, by virtue of the power in me invested as 
coramander-in-chicf of the army and navy of the United States, 
in time of actual armed rebellion against the authority and govern¬ 
ment of the United States, and as a fit and necessary war-measure 
for suppressing said rebellion, do, on this first day of January, in 
the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, 
and in accordance with my purpose so to do, publicly proclaimed 
for the full period of one hundred days from the day first above 
mentioned, order and designate as the States, and parts of States, 
wherein the people thereof respectively are this day in rebellion 
against the United States, the following; to wit.” 

Then follows a list of the States in rebellion. “ And by virtue 
of the power, and for the purpose aforesaid, I do order and 
declare, that all persons held as slaves within said designated 
States, and parts of States, are, and henceforth shall be, free; and 
that the Executive Government of the United States, including the 
military and naval authorities thereof, will recognize and main¬ 
tain the freedom of said persons.” 

The proclamation is concluded with the following words: 
“ And upon this act, sincerely believed to be an act of justice 
warranted by the Constitution, upon military necessity, I invoke 
the considerate judgment of mankind, and the gracious favor 
of Almighty God.” 

Of this proclamation “ The London Spectator ” says, “We cannot 
read it without a renewed conviction that it is the noblest politi¬ 
cal document known to history, and should have for the nation, 
and the statesmen he left behind him, something of a sacred 
and almost prophetic character. Surely none was ever written 
under a stronger sense of the reality of God’s government; and 


ABRAUAM LINCOLN. 


417 


certainly none written in a period of passionate conflict ever so 
completely excluded the partiality of victorious faction, and 
breathed so pure a strain of mingled justice and mercy.’’ 

The country abounded with spies and informers; and, as another 
measure of military necessity, the writ of habeas corpus was sus¬ 
pended. The President issued a circular letter to the army, 
urging the observance of the Lord’s Day, and reverence for the 
name of God. Sunday desecration, and profanity, are ever two 
great evils in an army. 

At one time, twenty-four deserters were sentenced by court- 
martial to be shot. Mr. Lincoln refused to sign the warrants for 
their execution. An officer said to him, “ Mr. President, unless 
these men are made an example of, the army itself is in danger. 
Mercy to the few is cruelty to the many.” Mr. Lincoln replied, 
“ Mr. General, there are already too many weeping widows in the 
United States. Don’t ask me to add to their number; for I will 
not do it.” 

A petition was brought to him to pardon a man who had been 
convicted of being engaged in the slave-trade. He read it 
carefully, and then said to the one who brought the petition, — 
My friend, that is a very touching appeal to our feelings. You 
know my weakness is to be, if possible, too easily moved by ap¬ 
peals to mercy. If this man were guilty of the foulest murder 
that the arm of man could perpetrate, I could forgive him on such 
an appeal; but the man who could go to Africa, and rob her of 
her children, and sell them into interminable bondage, with no 
other motive than that which is furnished by dollars and cents, 
is so much worse than the most depraved murderer, that he can 
never receive pardon at my hands.” 

A lady, the wife of a captured rebel officer, came to Mr. Lin¬ 
coln, and pleaded tearfully for the release of her husband, in her 
plea, gushing from a woman’s loving heart, she urged that her 
husband was a very religious man. Mr. Lincoln’s feelings were 
so moved by the grief of the wife, that he released the rebel. 
He, however, remarked,— 

You say that your husband is a religious man. Tell him that 
I say that I am not much of a judge of religion ; but that, in my 
opinion, the religion that sets men to rebel and fight against 
their government, because, as they think, that government does 
not sufficiently help some men to eat their bread in the sweat of 

63 


418 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


other men’s faces, is not the sort of religion upon which men can 
get to heaven.” 

The fearful trials of his office developed very rapidly Mr. Lin¬ 
coln’s religious nature. I have been driven,” he said, “manj; 
times to my knees, by the overwhelming conviction that I had 
nowhere else to go. My own wisdom, and that of all about me, 
seemed insufficient for that day. I should be the most presump¬ 
tuous blockhead upon this footstool, if I for one day thought that 
I could discharge the duties which have come upon me since I 
came into this place, without the aid and enlightenment of One 
who is wiser and stronger than all others.” 

Mr. Carpenter, a distinguished artist who spent six months 
almost constantly in the society of the President, says of him, — 
Absorbed in his papers, he would become unconscious of my 
presence, while I intently studied every line and shade of ex¬ 
pression in that furrowed face. In repose, it was the saddest face 
I ever knew. There were days when I could scarcely look into 
it without crying. During the first week of the battles of the 
Wilderness, he scarcely slept at all. Passing through the main 
hall of the domestic apartment on one of those days, I met him, 
clad in a long morning wrapper, pacing back and forth a narrow 
passage leading to one of the windows, his hands behind him, 
great black rings under his eyes, his head bent forward upon his 
breast, — altogether such a picture of the effects of sorrow, care, 
and anxiety, as would have melted the hearts of the worst of his 
adversaries. With a sorrow almost divine, he, too, could have 
said of the rebellious States, ^ How often would I have gathered 
you together even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her 
wings, and ye would not! ’ ” 

The Hon. Mr. Colfax says, “ Calling upon the President one 
morning in the winter of 1863,1 found him looking more than 
usually pale and careworn, and inquired the reason. He replied, 
that with the bad news he had received at a late hour the pre¬ 
vious night, which had not yet been communicated to the press, 
he had not closed his eyes, or breakfasted ; and, with an expres¬ 
sion I shall never forget, he exclaimed, ‘ How willingly would I 
exchange places to-day with the soldier who sleeps on the ground 
in the Army of the Potomac! ’ ” 

Mr. Frederick Douglas, in the autumn of 1864, visited Washing¬ 
ton;'and Mr. Lincoln, wishing to converse with him upon some 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 


419 


points on which he desired the opinion and advice of that very 
remarkable man, sent his carriage, and an invitation to Mr. Doug¬ 
las to “ come up and take a cup of tea with him.’^ The invita¬ 
tion was accepted. Probably never before was a colored man an 
honored guest in the White House. Mr. Douglas subsequently 
remarked, “ Mr Lincoln is one of the few white men I ever passed 
an hour with, who failed to remind me in some way, before the 
interview terminated, that I was a negro.’’ 

The following is from a correspondent of “ The New-York In¬ 
dependent : ” On New-Year’s Day, 1865, a memorable incident 
occurred, of which the like was never before seen at the White 
House. I had noticed at sundry times, during the summer, the 
wild fervor and strange enthusiasm which our colored friends 
always manifested over the name of Abraham Lincoln. His name, 
with them, seems to be associated with that of his namesake, the 
father of the faithful. In the great crowds which gather from 
time to time in front of the White House in honor of the Presi¬ 
dent, none shout so loudly or so wildly, and swing their hats with 
such utter abandon^ while their eyes are beaming with the in- 
tensest joy, as do these simple-minded and grateful people. I 
have often laughed heartily at these exhibitions. 

But the scene yesterday excited far other emotions. As I 
entered the door of the President’s House, I noticed groups of 
colored people gathered here and there, who seemed to be 
watching earnestly the inpouring throng. For nearly two hours 
they hung around, until the crowd of white visitors began sensibly 
to diminish. Then they summoned courage, and began timidly to 
approach the door. Some of them were richly and gayly dressed, 
some were in tattered garments, and others in the most fanciful 
and grotesque costumes. All pressed eagerly forward. When 
they came into the presence of the President, doubting as to their 
reception, the feelings of the poor creatures overcame them ; and 
here the scene baffles my powers of description. 

“ For two long hours, Mr. Lincoln had been shaking the hands 
of the ^ sovereigns,’ and had become excessively weary, and his 
grasp languid ; but his nerves rallied at the unwonted sight, and 
he welcomed the motley crowd with a heartiness that made them 
wild with exceeding joy. They laughed and wept, and wept and 
laughed, exclaiming through their blinding tears, ' God bless 
you!’ ^ God bless Abraham Lincoln!’ ‘God bress Massa *Lin- 


420 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


kum! ^ Those who witnessed this scene will not soon forget it. 
For a long distance down the avenue, on my way home, I heard 
fast young men cursing the President for this act; but all the way 
the refrain rang in my ears, ^ God bless Abraham Lincoln ! ^ ” 

The telegram one day announced a great battle in progress. 
Mr. Lincoln paced the floor, pale and haggard, unable to eat, and 
fearfully apprehensive of a defeat. A lady said to him, ‘‘We 
can at least pray.’^—“ Yes,’^ said he; and, taking his Bible, he 
hastened to his room. The prayer he offered was overheard; and, 
in the intensity of entreaty and childlike faith, it was such as sel¬ 
dom ascends from human lips. Ere long, a telegram announced 
a Union victory. He came back to the room he had left, his face 
beaming with joy, and said, “ Good news, good news I The vic¬ 
tory is ours, and God is good I” — “ There is nothing like prayer,’^ 
the lady responded. “ Yes, there is,” he replied : “ pfaise, prayer, 
and praise.” It is confidently asserted, that, during the war, Mr. 
Lincoln found an hour every day for prayer. 

There was a peculiarity in the character of this most remarka¬ 
ble man, a peculiarity conspicuous from the cradle to the grave, 
which no one yet has been successful in satisfactorily explaining. 
Take the following as an illustration: — 

A poor old man from Tennessee went to Washington to plead 
for the life of his son. He had no friends. Almost by chance, 
and after much delay, he succeeded in working his way to the 
President through the crowd of senators, governors, and generals, 
who were impatiently waiting for an audience. Mr. Lincoln 
looked over bis papers, and told the man that he would give him 
his answer the next day. The anguish-stricken father looked up 
with swimming eyes, and said, “ To-morrow may be too late ! 
My son is under sentence of death I The decision ought to be 
made now! ” 

“Wait a bit,” said the President, “and I will tell you a story. 
Col. Fisk, of Missouri, raised a regiment, and made every man 
agree that the colonel should do all the swearing of the regiment. 
One of his teamsters, John Todd, in driving a mule-team over a 
boggy road, completely lost his patience, and burst into a volley 
of oaths. The colonel called him to account. ‘John,^ skid he, 
‘ did you not promise to let me do all the swearing of the regi¬ 
ment V — ‘ Yes, I did, colonel,^ he replied : ‘ but the fact was, the 
swearing had to be done then, or not at all; and you weren't there 
to do it.' ” 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 


m 

The President laughed at this story most heartily; and even 
the old man joined him in the laugh. He then, in a few words, 
wrote a pardon for the boy, and handed it to the father. 

Perhaps the most sublime and momentous moment of his life 
was when he presented to his cabinet his proclamation, which 
was to deliver from bondage nearly four millions of human beings 
then living, and to rescue from that doom uncounted millions yet 
unborn. He had prepared it without consultation with others, 
and no one knew the object of the meeting. When all these 
grave and distinguished men, pressed in body, mind, and heart 
with the burden of the war, had met in the President’s cabinet, 
Mr. Lincoln prepared himself to present the proclamation to them 
by taking down from the shelf ^^Artemas Ward his Book,” and 
reading an entire chapter of his frivolous drollery, laughing in 
the mean time with an abandon of mirth, as if he had never 
cherished a serious thought. 

Then, with his whole tone and manner suddenly changed, 
with an expression of countenance and a modulation of voice 
which indicated, that, in every fibre of his soul, he appreciated the 
grandeur of the occasion, he read that immortal document, which, 
as he afterwards said, was the greatest event of the nineteenth 
century. 

In one of the darkest hours of the war, a member of his cabi¬ 
net called upon him to confer respecting some weighty matters. 
The President commenced relating a ludicrous anecdote. ^‘Please, 
Mr. President,” said the secretary remonstratingly, did not 
come here this morning to hear stories. It is too serious a time.” 
The President paused for a moment, and then said, “ Sit down, 
sir. I respect your feelings.' You cannot be more anxious than 
I am constantly. And I say to you now, that, if it were not for 
this occasional vent, I should die ! ” 

Mr. Lincoln’s literary taste was of a high order. No man more 
correctly appreciated poetic beauty. The most delicate shades 
of thought, and the purest sentiments, were those for which his 
mind had an intuitive affinity. His memory was stored with 
beautiful fragments of verse, and these were invariably of the 
highest literary and moral excellence. 

There are,” said he on one occasion, some quaint, queer 
verses, written, I think, by Oliver Wendell Holmes, entitled ' The 
Last Leaf,’ one of which is to me inexpressibly touching.” He 
then repeated, — 


422 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


** The mossy marbles rest 
On the lips that he has pressed 
In their bloom; 

And the names he loved to hear 
Have been carved for many a year 
On the tomb.” 

He then added, “For pure pathos, in my judgment, there is 
nothing finer than these six lines in the English language.^’ On 
another occasion he said, “ There is a poem that has been a great 
favorite with me for years, to which my attention was first called, 
when a young man, by a friend, and which I afterwards saw, and 
cut from a newspaper, and carried it in my pocket, till, by fre¬ 
quent reading, I had it by heart.” He then repeated eleven verses 
of a poem of which we here give the first and last stanzas: — 

“ Oh! why should the spirit of mortal be proud I 
Like a swift-fleeting meteor, a fast-flying cloud, 

A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave, 

He passeth from life to the rest of the grave. 

'Tis the wink of an eye, 'tis the draught of a breath. 

From the blossom of health to the paleness of death. 

From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud: 

Oh! why should the spirit of mortal be proud 7 ” 

Mr. Lincoln was very remarkable for his fund of anecdote. He 
always had his little story with which to illustrate any point; and 
the illustration was often found to contain resistless argument. It 
has been said that his stories were sometimes coarse. Upon this 
point, Mr. Carpenter says, after six months of the most intimate 
daily acquaintance, — 

“ Mr. Lincoln, I am convinced, has been greatly wronged in this 
respect. Every foul-mouthed man in the country gave currency 
to the slime and filth of his own imagination by attributing it 
to the President. It is but simple justice to his memory that I 
should state, that, during the entire period of my stay in Wash¬ 
ington, after witnessing his intercourse with nearly all classes of 
men, embracing governors, senators, and members of Congress, 
oflScers of the army, and intimate friends, I cannot recollect to 
have heard him relate a circumstance to any one of them which 
would have been out of place uttered in a lady’s drawing-room. 

“And this testimony is not unsupported by That of others, well 
tmtitled to consideration. Dr. Stone, his family physician, came 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN, 


423 


in one day to see my studies. Sitting in front of that of the 
President, with whom he did not sympathize politically, he re¬ 
marked with much feeling, ^ It is the province of a physician to 
probe deeply the interior lives of men ; and 1 aflSrm that Mr. Lin¬ 
coln is the purest-hearted man with whom I ever came in contact.’ 
Secretary Seward, who of the cabinet officers was probably the 
most intimate with the President, expressed the same sentiment 
in still stronger language. He once said to the Rev. Dr. Bellows, 
‘ Mr. Lincoln is the best man I ever knew.’ ” 

The tact which the President displayed in all his responses to 
the various kindnesses he received excited universal admiration. 
On such occasions, his awkwardness seemed graceful, and his plain 
face beautiful. As the President entered one of the rooms of the 
White House on an occasion when many visitors were present, a 
lady stepped forward playfully with a beautiful bunch of flowers, 
and said, Allow me, Mr. President, to present you with a 
bouquet.” He took the flowers, for a moment looked admiringly 
on their beauty, and then, fixing his eyes upon the countenance of 
the lady, which was also radiant with foveliness, said, Really, 
madam, if you give them to me, and they are mine, I think I can¬ 
not possibly make so good a use of them as to present them to 
you in return.” 

Upon the betrothal of the Prince of Wales to the Princess 
Alexandrina, Queen Victoria sent a letter to each of the European 
sovereigns, and also to President Lincoln, announcing the fact. 
Lord Lyons, the British ambassador at Washington, who was an 
unmarried man, sought an audience with the President, that he 
might communicate this important intelligence. With much for¬ 
mality, he presented himself at the White House, accompanied by 
Secretary Seward. 

“May it please your Excellency,” said the noble lord, “I hold 
in my hand an autograph-letter from my royal mistress. Queen 
Victoria, which I have been commanded to present to your 
Excellency. In it she informs your Excellency, that her son, his 
Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, is about to contract a. 
matrimonial alliance with her Royal Highness the Princess Alex¬ 
andrina of Denmark.” 

After continuing in this style of stately address for some 
moments, he placed the letter in the hands of the President. Mi. 


424 


LIVES OF TEE PEESIDENTS. 


Lincoln took it, and, with a peculiar twinkle of the eye, simply 
responded, Lord Lyons, go thou and do likewise.’’ 

Mr. Carpenter, in narrating this incident, adds, It is doubtful 
if an English ambassador was ever addressed in this manner 
before; and it would be interesting to learn what success he met 
with in putting the reply in diplomatic language, when he reported 
it to her Majesty.” 

In conversation at the White House, a gentleman referred to 
a body of water in Nebraska, which was called by an Indian name 
signifying weeping loater. Mr. Lincoln instantly replied, As 
laughing water, according to Longfellow, is Minnehaha, this, evi¬ 
dently, should be Minneboohoo.” 

A gentleman who had called upon the President, in the course of 
conversation inquired of him how many men the rebels had in the 
field. Promptly and very decidedly he replied, ‘‘ Twelve hundred 
thousand.” The interrogator, in amazement, exclaimed, ‘^Twelve 
hundred thousand! is it possible?” — “Yes, sir,” the President 
replied ; “ twelve hundred thousand : there is no doubt of it. You 
see, all of our generals, when they get whipped, say the enemy 
outnumbers them from three or five to one. I must believe them. 
We have four hundred thousand men in the field. Three times 
four make twelve. Don’t you see it?” 

Some gentlemen from the West called one day, with bitter 
complaints against the Administration. The President, as was his 
wont, listened to them patiently, and then replied, — 

“ Gentlemen, suppose all the property you were worth was in 
gold, and you had put it into the hands of Blondin to carry 
across the Niagara River on a rope, would you shake the cable, or 
keep shouting out to him, ^ Blondin, stand up a little straighter ; 
Blondin, stoop a little more; go a little faster; lean a little more 
to the north ; lean a little more to the south ’ ? No : you would 
hold your breath as well as your tongue, and keep your hands off 
until he was safe over. The Government are carrying an immense 
weight. Untold treasures are in their hands. They are doing 
the very best they can. Don’t badger them. Keep silence, and 
we’ll get you safe across.” 

“ I hope,” said a clergyman to him one day, “ that the Lord is 
on our side.” — “I am not at all concerned about that,” was Mr. 
Lincoln’s reply; “ for I know that the Lord is always on the side 


ABU An AM LINCOLN. 


425 


of the right. But it is my constant anxiety and prayer that/and 
this nation should be on the Lord^s side.” 

As the rebel confederacy was crumbling into ruins, some gen¬ 
tlemen asked Mr. Lincoln what he intended to do with Jeff. Davis. 
“There was a boy,” said he, “in Springfield, who bought a coon, 
which, after the novelty wore off, became a great nuisance. He 
was one day leading him through the streets, and had his 
hands full to keep clear of the little vixen, who had torn his clothes 
half off of him. At length he sat down on the curbstone, com¬ 
pletely fagged out. A man, passing, was stopped by the lad’s 
disconsolate appearance, and asked the matter. ‘ Oh,’ was 
the reply, ^ the coon is such a trouble to me!’ — ‘Why don’t 
you get rid of it, then ? ’ said the gentleman. ‘ Hush ! ’ said the 
boy. ‘Don’t you see that he is gnawing his rope off? lam going 
to let him do it; and then I will go home, and tell the folks that he 
got aicay from we.’” 

On the Monday before his assassination, the President, on his 
return from Richmond, stopped at City Point. There were very 
extensive hospitals there, filled with sick and wounded soldiers. 
Mr. Lincoln told the head surgeon that he wished to visit all 
the hospitals, that he might shake hands with every soldier. The 
surgeon endeavored to dissuade him, saying that there were 
between five and six thousand patients in the hospitals, and that 
he would find it a severe tax upon his strength to visit all the 
wards. But Mr. Lincoln persisted, saying, — 

“ I think that I am equal to the task. At any rate, I will try, 
and go as far‘as I can. I shall probably never see the boys again, 
and I want them to know that 1 appreciate what they have done 
for their country.” 

The surgeon, finding that he could not dissuade Mr. Lincoln, 
began his rounds, accompanying the President from bed to bed. 
To every man he extended his hand, and spoke a few words of 
sympathy. As he passed along, welcomed by all with heartfelt 
cordiality, he came to a ward where there was a wgunded rebel. 
The unhappy man raised himself upon his elbow in bed as the 
President approached, and, with tears running down his cheeks, 
said, “ Mr. Lincoln, I have long wanted to see you to ask your for¬ 
giveness for ever raising my hand against the old flag.” 

Tears filled the President’s eyes. Warmly he shook the young 
man’s hand, assuring him of his good will and heartfelt sympathy. 

54 


426 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


Several hours were occupied in tlie tour, when the President 
returned with the surgeon to his office. They had, however, but 
just taken their seats, when a messenger came, saying that one 
of the wards had been missed, and that “ the boys were very anx¬ 
ious to see the President. The’ surgeon, who was quite tired out, 
and who knew that Mr. Lincoln must be greatly exhausted, en¬ 
deavored to dissuade him from going back; but Mr. Lincoln 
persisted, saying, The boys will be so disappointed ! ’’ He there¬ 
fore went with the messenger, and did not return until he had 
visited every bed. 

Mr. Lincoln retained at the White House, to a very remai'kable 
degree, the simple habits to which he had been accustomed in his 
home in Illinois. Mr. Holland relates the following characteristic 
anecdote: — 

^^He delighted to see his familiar Western friends, and gave 
them always a cordial welcome. He met them on the old footing, 
and fell at once into the accustomed habits of talk and story-tell- 
mg. An old acquaintance, with his wife, visited Washington. 
Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln proposed to these friends to ride in the 
presidential carriage. It should be stated in advance, that the 
two men had probably never seen each other with gloves on in 
their lives, unless when they were used as protection from the 
cold. The question of each — Mr. Lincoln at the White House, 
and his friend at the hotel — was, whether he should wear gloves. 
Of course, the ladies urged gloves ; but Mr. Lincoln only put his 
in his pocket, to be used or not according to circumstances. 
When the presidential party arrived at the hotel to take in their 
friends, they found the gentleman, overcome by his wife’s persua¬ 
sions, very handsomely gloved. The moment he took his seat, he 
began to draw off the clinging kids, while Mr. Lincoln began to 
draw his on. ^ No, no, no I ’ protested his friend, tugging at his 
gloves, ^ it is none of my doings. Put up your gloves, Mr. Lin¬ 
coln.^ So the two old friends were on even and easy terms, and 
had their ride ^fter their old fashion.’’ 

The Hon. Thaddeus Stevens, on one occasion, called at the 
White House with an elderly lady who was in great trouble. 
Her son had been in the army, but for some offence had been 
court-martialled, and sentenced either to death, or imprisonment 
for a long term at hard labor. There were some extenuating cir¬ 
cumstances. The President gave the woman a long and attentive 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN, 


427 


hearing, and then, turning to the representative, said, Do you 
think/’ Mr. .Stevens, that this is a case which will warrant my in¬ 
terference ? ” — With my knowledge of the facts and parties/’ 
was the reply, I should have no hesitation in granting a par¬ 
don.” — Then,” replied Mr. Lincoln, “ I will pardon him.” Turn¬ 
ing to the table, he wrote the pardon, and handed it to the mother. 
Her gratitude so overcame her, that for a moment she was speech¬ 
less, taking the paper in silence ; but, as she was descending the 
stairs with Mr. Stevens, she turned to him, and said very earnest¬ 
ly, “ I knew it was all a copperhead lie.” — To what do you refer, 
madam?” Mr. Stevens inquired. Why, they told me,” she re¬ 
plied, “ that he was an ugly-looking man; but he is the handsomest 
man I ever saw in my life.” 

And surely there was beauty in that furrowed, care-worn, gen¬ 
tle face. A lady connected with the Christian Commission had 
several interviews with him, consulting him in reference to her 
humane duties. At the close of one of these interviews, Mr. Lin¬ 
coln said to her, with that child-like frankness and simplicity so 
characteristic of him, — 

Madam, I have formed a high opinion of your Christian 
character j and now, as we are alone, I have a mind to ask you 
to give me, in brief, your idea of what constitutes a true Chris¬ 
tian.” 

She replied at some length, stating in substance, that, in her 
judgment, ‘‘ it consisted of a conviction of one’s own sinfulness 
and weakness, and personal need of a Saviour for strength and 
support; that views of mere doctrine might and would differ; but 
when one was really brought to feel his need of divine help, and 
to seek the aid of the Holy Spirit for strength and guidance, it 
was satisfactory evidence of his having been born again.” 

With deep emotion, he replied, “ If what you have told me is 
really a correct view of this great subject, I think that I can say 
with sincerity, that I hope that I am a Christian. I had lived, until 
my boy Willie died, without realizing fully these things. That 
blow overwhelmed me. It showed me my weakness as I had never 
felt it before ; and, if I can take what you have stated as a tesl^ I 
think that I can safely say that I know something of that change 
of which you speak: and I will further add, that it has been my 
intention for some time, at a suitable opportunity, to make a pub¬ 
lic religious profession.” 


428 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


“ Oh, how hard it is/^ said he one day, to die, and not leave the 
world any better for one’s little life in it! ” 

Four years of civil war passed slowly and sadly away. There 
was another.presidential election. Those who were opposed to 
Mr. Lincoln and the war rallied in great strength; but Mr. Lin¬ 
coln was triumphantly re-elected, receiving two hundred and 
twelve out of two hundred and thirty-three electoral votes. The 
evening of his election, he said, in reference to this emphatic 
approval of his administration by the people, — 

I am thankful to God for this approval of the people ; but 
while deeply grateful for th;s mark of their confidence in me, if T 
know my heart, my gratitude is free from afiy taint of personal 
triumph. I do not impugn the motives of any one opposed to me. 
It is no pleasure to me to triumph over any one; but I give 
thanks to the Almighty for this evidence of the people’s resolu¬ 
tion to stand by a free government and the rights of humanity.” 

The last hope of the rebels was now gone. It was manifest 
beyond all controversy that the American people would not sub¬ 
mit to have their government broken up by traitors. Again he 
said, in response to a delegation which waited upon him with con¬ 
gratulations, speaking of the election, — 

It has demonstrated that a people’s government can sustain a 
national election in the midst of a great civil war. Until now, it 
has not been known to the world that this was a possibility. It 
shows also how strong and sound we still are. It shows also that 
we have more men now than when the war began. Gold is good 
in its place ; but living, brave, and patriotic men are better than 
gold.” 

Every month now indicated that the Rebellion was drawing near 
to its close. The triumphs of Grant, Sherman, and Sheridan, were 
striking the hearts of the rebels with dismay, and inspiring all 
loyal hearts with hope. The National Government had, in the 
field, armies amounting to over seven hundred thousand men; 
and six hundred and seventy vessels of war were afloat, carrying 
four thousand six hundred and ten guns. At President Lincoln’s 
suggestion. Congress passed an act recommending to the States an 
amendment to the Constitution^ prohibiting slavery. This event 
was generally hailed by the country with great satisfaction. This 
settled forever the efficacy of his proclamation of emancipation. 
Friends and foes now alike admitted the great ability of Abraham 
Lincoln. 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 


429 


An immense and enthusiastic crowd attended his second inau¬ 
guration. His address on the occasion, characteristic of the man, 
was one of the noblest utterances which ever fell from the lips of 
a ruler when entering ilpon oflSce. In allusion to the parties 
arrayed against each other in the war, he said, — 

“ Both read the same Bible, and pray to the same God; and each 
invokes his aid against the other. It may seem strange that any 
men should dare to ask a just God’s assistance in wringing their 
bread from the sweat of other men’s faces ; but let us judge not, 
that we be not judged. The prayers of both could not be answered. 
That of ^either has been answered fully. The Almighty has 
his own purposes. ^ Woe unto the world because of offences ! 
For it must needs be that offences come ; but woe to that man by 
whom the offence cometh ! ’ 

“ If we shall suppose that American slavery is one of those 
offences, which, in the providence of God, must needs come, but 
which, having continued through his appointed time, he now wills 
to remove, and that he gives to both North and South this terri¬ 
ble war as the woe due to those by whom the offence came, 
shall we discern therein any departure from those divine attri¬ 
butes which the believers in a living God always ascribe to him? 
Fondly do we hope, fervently do we. pray, that this mighty scourge 
of war may soon pass away. Yet if God wills that it continue 
until all the wealth piled by the bondmen’s two hundred and 
fifty years of unrequited.toil shall be sunk, and until every drop 
of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid with another drawn 
with the sword, — as- was said three thousand years ago, so still 
it must be said, ^ The. judgments of the Lord are true and 
righteous altogether.’ 

“ With malice towards none, with charity for all, with firmness 
in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to 
finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation’s wounds ; to care 
for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow and 
orphans; to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and a 
lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations.” 

On the morning of the 3d of April, 1865, it was announced by 
telegraph that the Union army had entered Richmond; that Lee 
was in full retreat, pursued by Grant; and that President Lincoln 
had gone to the front. No pen can describe the joy with which 
these tidings were received. The war was over; slavery was 


430 


UVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


dead; and the Union, cemented in freedom, was stronger than 
ever before. Contrary to his own estimate of himself, Mr. Lin¬ 
coln was one of the most courageous of men. He went directly 
into the rebel capital, which was then swarming with rebels. 
Without any guard but the sailors who had rowed him a mile up 
the river in a boat from the man-of-war in which he ascended the 
stream, he entered the thronged and tumultuous city, which was 
then enveloped in flames, the torch having been applied by the 
retreating foe. He was on foot, leading his little boy ‘‘ Tad by 
the hand. 

The riimor of his presence soon spread through the city. The 
blacks crowded around Him, shouting, singing, laughing, praying, 
and with all other demonstrations of the wildest joy. A poor 
woman stood in the door-way of her hut, quivering with emotion, 
'exclaiming, as a flood of tears ran down her cheeks, “ 1 thank you, 
dear Jesus, that I behold President Linkum.” Others seemed 
convulsed with joy as they cried out, Bless de Lord ! bless de 
Lord 1 At last the road became so choked with the multitude, 
that it was necessary to send soldiers to clear the way. 

After visiting the headquarters of Gen. Weitzel, and taking a 
drive round the city, the President returned to City Point, and 
again soon after revisited Richmond with Mrs. Lincoln and Vice- 
President Johnson. On this occasion, he had an interview with 
some of the prominent citizens, by whom he afterwards felt that 
he had been deceived, and his confidence betrayed. From this 
trip he returned to Washington, to consecrate his energies to 
the reconstruction of the nation after these fearful shocks of 
war. 

Mr. Lincoln was a very frank man. He did nothing by guile. 
No one was left in doubt in respect to his views. The great 
question of reconstruction now engrossed every thinking mind. * 
In a letter to Gen. Wadsworth, he had written,— 

“ You desire to know, in the event of our complete success in 
the field, the same being followed by loyal and cheerful submission 
on the part of the South, if universal amnesty should not be accom¬ 
panied with universal sufirage. Since you know my private in¬ 
clination as to what terms should be granted to the South in the 
contingency mentioned, I will here add, that should our success 
thus be realized, followed by such desired results, I cannot see, 
if universal amnesty is granted, how, under the circumstances, 1 






























































































































































































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ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 


431 


can avoid exacting, in return, universal suffrage, or at least suf¬ 
frage on the basis of intelligence and military service!’^ 

We have spoken of the attempts which were made to assassi¬ 
nate President Lincoln before his inauguration. His life was con¬ 
stantly threatened. His friends urged him to practise caution; 
but this was so contrary to his nature, that he could not be per¬ 
suaded to do so. He walked the streets of Washington unat¬ 
tended, and as freely as any other citizen. 

On the 14th of April, Gen. Grant was in the city; and the man¬ 
ager of Ford’s .Theatre invited the President and the General to 
witness on his boards the representation, that evening, of “ Our 
American Cousin.’' To assist in drawing a crowd, it was announced 
in the play-bills that they would both be present. Gen. Grant 
left the city. President Lincoln, feeling, with his characteristic 
kindliness of heart, that it would be a disappointment if he should 
fail them, very reluctantly consented to go. With his wife and 
two friends, he reached the theatre a little before nine o’clock; and 
they took their seats in a private box reserved for them. The 
house was full in every part; and the whole audience rose as the 
President entered, and he was greeted with the greatest enthu¬ 
siasm. 

As the President, having taken his seat, was apparently listen¬ 
ing with great interest to the play, a play-actor by the name of 
John Wilkes Booth worked his way through the crowd, in the 
rear of the dress-circle, and, reaching the door of the box where 
the President was seated, presented a pistol within a few inches 
of his head, and fired a bullet into his brain. Mr. Lincoln, reclin¬ 
ing in his chair, instantly lost all consciousness, and did not move. 
The assassin, brandishing a dagger, leaped upon the stage, and 
shouting theatrically, “ Sic semper tyrannis I ” rushed across it in 
the terrible confusion which ensued, mounted a fleet horse at the 
door, and escaped. 

The helpless form of the President, bleeding and unconscious, 
was borne across the street to a private house. A surgical exami¬ 
nation showed that the wound was mortal. It was a sad scene. 
Upon pillows drenched with blood lay the President, senseless and 
dying, his brains oozing from his wound. The leading men of 
the Government had speedily gathered, overwhelmed with grief. 
Staunton and Welles and Sumner and M'Culloch were there ; and 
tears flooded the eyes of these strong men, while audible sobs burst 


432 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


from their lips. Senator Sumner tenderly held the hand of the 
sufferer, and wept with uncontrollable emotion. At twenty-two 
minutes past seven o^clock in the morning, President Lincoln, 
without recovering consciousness, breathed his last. 



ASSASSINATION OF AP.RAHAM LINCOLN. 


It was a widespread conspiracy for the death of the leading offi¬ 
cers of the Government and of the army. The President, Vice- 
President Johnson, Secretary Seward, Gen. Grant, and others, 
were marked for destruction. When Booth was creeping around 
the dress-circle of the theatre with his pistol, another of the assas¬ 
sins, by the name of Powell, entered the sick-chamber of Secretary 
Seward, where the illustrious minister was helpless on a bed of 
suffering, his jaw being broken, and he being otherwise severely 
injured, by the accidental overturn of his carriage. The mur¬ 
derer, a man of herculean frame and strength, reached the cham¬ 
ber-door of his victim by asserting that he came with medicine 
from the physician. With the butt of his pistol he knocked down 
and stunned Mr. Frederic Seward, the son of the Secretary, who 
endeavored to arrest his entrance; Then leaping upon the bed, 



















ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 


433 


With sinewy arm, three times he plunged his dagger into the 
throat and neck of Mr. Seward. The wounded man, in the strug¬ 
gle, rolled from his bed upon the floor. An attendant sprang upon 
the assassin; but the wretch with his dagger cut himself loose, 
and escaped into the street, after stabbing five persons who at¬ 
tempted to arrest him in his escape. A kind Providence, in 
various ways, sheltered the others who were marked for de¬ 
struction. 

It was not deemed safe to inform Mr. Seward, in his perilous 
condition, of the assassination of the President, as it was feared 
that the shock would be greater than he could bear. Sunday 
morning, however, he had his bed wheeled round, so that he 
could see the tops of the trees in the park opposite his chamber. 
His eye caught sight of the stars and stripes at half-mast over the 
building of the War Department. For a moment he gazed upon the 
flag in silence, and then, turning to his attendant, said, “ The Presi¬ 
dent is dead 1 ” The attendant, much embarrassed, stammered a 
reply. ^^If he had been alive,” continued the Secretary, “he 
would have been the first to call upon me. But he has not been 
here, nor has he sent to know how I am; and there is the flag at 
half-mast! ” As he said this, tears rolled down his cheeks. 

Never before, in the history of the world, was a nation plunged 
into such deep grief by the death of its ruler. Abraham Lincoln 
had won the afiections of all patriot hearts. Strong men met in 
the streets, and wept in speechless anguish. It is not too much 
to say that a nation was in tears. As the awful tidings flew 
along the wires, funeral-bells were tolled in city and in country, 
flags everywhere were at half-mast, and groups gathered in 
silent consternation. It was Saturday morning when the murder 
was announced. On Sunday, all the churches were draped in 
mourning. The atrocious act was the legitimate result of the vile 
Rebellion, and was in character with its developed ferocity from 
the beginning to the end. 

The grief of the colored people was sublime in its universality 
and its intensity. A Northern gentleman, who was in Charles¬ 
ton, S. C., when the tidings of the assassination reached there, 
writes, — 

“ I never saw such sad faces or heard such heavy heart-beatings 
as here in Charleston the day the dreadful news came. The 
colored people, the native loyalists, were like children bereaved 

55 


434 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


i 

of an only and a loved parent. I saw one old woman going up 
the street wringing her hands, and saying aloud as she walked, 
looking straight before her, so absorbed in her grief that shie 
noticed no one, — 

< 0 Lord, 0 Lord, 0 Lord I Massa Sam^s dead I Massa Sam's 
dead! 0 Lord I Massa Sam's dead I' 

U ( Who's dead, aunty ?' I asked her. 

Massa Sam!" she said, not looking at me. ^ 0 Lord, 0 
Lord ! Massa Sam’s dead !' 

‘ Who's Massa Sam ? ' I asked. 

“ ^ Uncle Sam ! ” she said. ^ 0 Lord, 0 Lord !' 

“ I was not quite sure that she meant the President, and I spoke 
again. ^ Who's Massa Sam, aunty ? ' 

“ ^ Mr. Linkum,' she said, and resumed wringing her hands, and 
moaning in utter hopelessness of sorrow. The poor creature 
was too ignorant to comprehend any difference between the very 
unreal Uncle Sam and the actual President; but her heart told 
her that he whom Heaven had sent in answer to her prayers was 
lying in a bloody grave, and that she and her race were left 
fatherless.’’^ 

The body of the President was removed to the White House, 
and placed in a coffin almost buried in flowers, which the affection 
of a bereaved people supplied. It is estimated that fifty thousand 
persons went to the White House to take a last look of his loved 
face. The funeral solemnities were conducted by clergymen of 
the 'Presbyterian, Methodist, Episcopal, and Baptist churches. 
Dr. Gurley, in his noble tribute to the deceased, said, — 

“ Probably no man, since the days of Washington, was ever so 
deeply and firmly embedded and enshrined in the hearts of the 
people as Abraham Lincoln. Nor was it a mistaken confidence 
and love. He deserved it, deserved it well, deserved it all. He 
merited it by his character, by his acts, and by the tenor and tone 
and spirit of his life.” 

It may be truly said that the funeral-train extended fifteen 
hundred miles, — from Washington to Springfield, Ill. Groups 
gathered as mourners at every station, bells were tolled, and 
bands of music breathed forth their plaintive requiems. In som® 
places, the railway, for miles, was lined with a continuous group 
of men, women, and children, standing in silence, with uncovered 
heads and swimming eyes, as the solemn pageant swept by. It 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN, 


4^5 

would require a volume to describe the scenes which were wit¬ 
nessed in the various cities and villages through which the funeral 
procession passed. 

The train reached Springfield, Ill., on the morning of the 3d 
of May. Bishop Simpson of the Methodist Church, a personal 
friend of the President, in his funeral address quoted the follow¬ 
ing words from one of the speeches of Mr. Lincoln in 1859 
Speaking of the slave-power, Mr. Lincoln said,— 

‘‘ Broken by it I, too, may be; bow to it I never will. The 
probability that we may fail in the struggle ought not to deter us 
from the support of a cause which I deem to be just-; and it shall 
not deter me.. If ever I feel the soul within me elevate and 
expand to those dimensions not wholly unworthy of the almighty 
Architect, it is when I contemplate the cause of my country, de 
serted by all the world besides, and I standing up boldly and 
alone, and hurling defiance at her victorious oppressors. Ilere, 
without contemplating consequences, before high Heaven, and in 
the face of the world, I swear eternal fidelity to the just cause, as 
I deem it, of the land of my life, my liberty, and my love.’’ 

England vied with America in expressions of respect and affec¬ 
tion for our martyred President. The statement contained in “ The 
London Spectator ” will surely be the verdict of posterity, that 
Abraham Lincoln was “the best if not the ablest man then rul¬ 
ing over any country in the civilized world.” The Queen of 
England, with her own hand, wrote a letter of condolence to Mrs. 
Lincoln. The sympathy which was manifested for us by the 
English, in this our great grief, so touched all loyal hearts, that 
Americans began to think that it was possible that England and 
America might yet again be united in the bonds of brotherly 
love, burying all past grievances in oblivion. 


CHAPTER XVII 


ANDREW JOHNSON. 

His Lowly ^ Origin. — Struggles for Education. — Early Distinction. — Alderman, Mayor, 
State Representative, State Senator. — Speeches. — Member of Congress. — Governor. — 
Anecdote. — United-States Senator. — Opposition to Secession. — Speeches. — GraduJ 
Change of Views. — Military Governor of Tennessee. — Address to the Colored People. — 
Vigorous Administration. — Vice-President. — Speeches. — President. — Political Views. 

Agreement with the Republican Party. — Conflict with Congress. — His Policy.— 
Articles of Amendment. — Petex Cooper. — Future Prospects. 

The early life of Andrew Johnson contains but the record of 
poverty, destitution, and friendlessness. He was born the 29th of 


RESIDKNOK OF ANDREW 


.JOHNSON, 



December, 1808, in Raleigh, the capital of North Carolina. His 
parents, belonging to the class of the ‘‘poor whites'' of the South, 
were in such circumstances, that they could not confer even the 

436 




















































































ANDREW JOHNSON. 


m 


slightest advantages of education upon their child. When Andreev 
was five years of age, his father accidentally lost , his life while 
heroically endeavoring to save a friend from drowning. Until ten 
years of age, Andrew was a ragged boy about the streets, sup. 
ported by the labor of his mother, who obtained her. living with 
her own hands. 

He then, having never attended a school one day, and being 
unable either to read or write, was apprenticed to a tailor in his 
native town. A benevolent gentleman of Raleigh was in the 
habit of going to the tailor’s shop occasionally, and reading to the 
boys at work there. He often read from the speeches of distin¬ 
guished British statesmen. Andrew, who was endowed with a 
mind of more than ordinary native ability, became much interest¬ 
ed in these speeches: his ambition was roused, and he was inspired 
with a strong desire to learn to read. 

He accordingly applied himself to the alphabet, and, with the 
assistance of some of his fellow-workmen, learned his letters. He 
then called upon the gentleman to borrow the book of speeches. 
The owner, pleased with his zeal, not only gave him the book, but 
assisted him in learning to combine the letters into words. Under 
such difficulties he pressed onward laboriously, spending usually 
ten or twelve hours at work in the shop, and then robbing himself 
of rest and recreation to devote such time as he could to reading. 

In 1824, when sixteen years of age, having finished his appren¬ 
ticeship, he went to Laurens Court House, in South Carolina, and 
worked as a journeyman tailor for two years. It does not appear, 
that, during this time, he made much progress in his attempts to 
learn to read with correctness and fluency. It is said that he 
became quite interested in a girl of the village, and would have 
married her but for the objections which her parents made in con¬ 
sequence of his extreme youth. 

In 1826, he returned to Raleigh, and, taking his mother with 
him, removed to Grreenville, a small town in East Tennessee, 
where he resumed his work as a journeyman tailor, and married a 
young woman of very estimable character, and who was so de¬ 
cidedly in advance of him in point of education, that she became 
his teacher in reading, writing, and arithmetic. She read to him 
as he plied the needle on the bench, and in the evenings instruct- 
ed him in other branches. Rapidly the young mechanic advanced 
in intelligence. His mental energy gave him influence among the 


438 


LIVES OF TEE PRESIDENTS. 


workmen. Words came easily at his bidding, and he knew well 
how to use all the information he gained. His popularity with the 
working-classes was such, that, in 1828, he was chosen one of the 
aldermen in the little town in which he dwelt; which position he 
held for two years, when, at the age of twenty-two, he was elected 
mayor. The position which he then occupied in public esteem 
may be inferred from the fact, that he was also appointed, by the 
county court, one of the trustees of Rhea Academy. 

He now began to take a lively interest in political affairs; identi¬ 
fying himself with the working-classes, to which he belonged. His 
zeal in their behalf, and the ever-increasing ability with which he 
espoused their cause, won their esteem, and secured for him, with 
great unanimity, their votes. In 1835, he was elected a member 
of the House of Representatives in Tennessee. He was then just 
twenty-seven years of age. He became a very active member of 
the legislature, gave his adhesion to the Democratic party, and 
in 1840 ‘‘stumped the State,” advocating Martin Van Bui-en^s 
claims to the presidency, in opposition to those of Gen. Harrison. 
In this campaign he acquired much readiness as a speaker, and 
extended and increased his reputation. 

In 1841, he was elected State senator from Hawkins and Greene 
Counties. The duties which devolved upon him he discharged 
with ability, and was universally esteemed as an earnest, honest 
man, heartily advocating whatever he thought to be right, and 
denoymcing what he thought to be wrong. In 1843, he was 
elected a member of Congress, and, by successive elections, held 
that important post for ten years. In 1853, he was elected Gov¬ 
ernor of Tennessee, and was re-elected in 1855. In all these re¬ 
sponsible positions, he discharged his duties with distinguished 
ability, and proved himself the warm friend of the working-classes. 

The following characteristic anecdote is related of him when 
Governor of Tennessee. With his own hands he cut and made 
a very handsome suit of clothes, and sent them as a present to 
Gov. M‘Goffin of Kentucky, who had been his friend and com¬ 
panion in earlier days. The Kentucky governor had been a 
blacksmith by trade. He returned the compliment by forging 
upon the anvil, with his own hands, a very neat pair of shovel and 
tongs, which he sent to Gov. Johnson, with the wish that they 
would help to keep alive the flame of their old friendship. 

In 1857, Mr. Johnson was elected, by the Legislature of Ten- 


ANDREW JOHNSON. 


439 


nessee, United-States senator for the term of six years. In 
Congress, both in the Senate and in the House, he adopted, in 
general, the Democratic policy. He opposed a protective tariff, 
and advocated the Homestead Bill. He belonged to the strict 
constructionist class of politicians, fearing lest the National Gov¬ 
ernment should have too much power; and he opposed any United- 
States bank, and all schemes of internal improvement by the Na¬ 
tional Government. He also went strongly with the South in its 
views of the incompetency of Congress to prevent the extension 
of slavery into the Territories. 

Years before, in 1845, he had warmly advocated the annexation 
of Texas; stating however, as a reason, that he thought this an¬ 
nexation would probably prove “ to be the gateway out of which 
the sable sons of Africa are to pass from bondage to freedom, and 
become merged in a population congenial to themselves.In 
1850, he also earnestly supported the compromise measures, the 
two essential features of which were, that the white people of th(» 
Territories should be permitted to decide for themselves whether 
they would enslave the colored population or not, and that the 
free States of the North should return to the South any persons 
who should attempt to escape from slavery. 

Mr. Johnson was never ashamed of his lowly origin: on the 
contrary, he often took pride in avowing that he owed his dis¬ 
tinction to his own exertions. “ Sir,” said he on the floor of the 
Senate, “I do not forget that I am a mechanic. Neither do I 
forget that Adam was a tailor and sewed fig-leaves, and that our 
Saviour was the son of-a carpenter.” 

In the spring of 1858, Senator Hammond, of South Carolina 
made a speech in Congress, containing the following sentences:— 

^^In all social systems, there must be a class to do the menial 
duties, to perform the drudgery of life. Such a class you must 
have. It constitutes the very mudsill of society and of political 
government; and you might as well attempt to build a house in 
the air as to build either the one or the other, except on this mud¬ 
sill. The man who lives by daily labor, and who has to put out 
his labor in the market, and take the best he can get for it; in 
short, your whole class of manual laborers and operatives, as you 
call them,—are essentially slaves. The difference is, that our 
slaves are hired for life : yours are hired by the day. Our slaves 
are black; yours are white: our slaves do not vote; yours vote.” 


440 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


Senator Johnson, in his characteristic reply, said, Will it do 
to assume that the man who labors with his hands is a slave ? 
No,-sir. I am a laborer with my hands, and I never considered 
myself a slave.’' 

Mr. Hammond, interrupting him, inquired, Will the senator 
define a slave ? ” , 

Mr. Johnson replied, What we understand to be a slave in 
the South is a person who is held to service during his or her 
natural life, subject to and under the control of a master, who has 
the right to appropriate the products of his or her labor to his 
own use. If we were to follow out the idea that every operative 
and laborer is a slave, we should find a great many distinguished 
slaves since the world began. Socrates, who first conceived the 
idea of the immortality of the soul, pagan as he was, labored with 
his own hands; yes, wielded the chisel and the mallet, giving 
polish and finish to the stone. He afterwards turned to be a 
fashioner and constructor of the mind. 

Paul, the great expounder, himself was a tent-maker, and 
worked with his own hands. Was he a slave? Archimedes, who 
declared, that, if he had a place on which to rest the fulcrum, with 
the po^er of his lever he could move the world,—was he a slave ? 
Adam, our great father and head, the lord of the world, was a 
tailor by trade. I wonder if he were a slave.” 

Mr. Johnson was strongly opposed to secession, not however, 
at first, upon the ground that the slaveholders were not right in 
their claim that slavery should he nationalized: but, foreseeing the 
folly of an appeal to arms, he urged them to remain, and struggle 
for the attainment of their ends on the floor of Congress; or, as 
he expressed it, to ‘‘ fight for their constitutional rights on the 
battlements of the Constitution.” He said, We can more suc¬ 
cessfully resist Black Republicanism by remaining within the 
Union than by going out of it. As to Mr. Lincoln, he said on 
the 19th of December, 1861, ‘‘I voted against him; I spoke 
against him; I spent my money to defeat him.” 

There was, perhaps, no one in Congress who exposed the ab¬ 
surdity of the doctrine of secession in strains more eloquent and 
convincing to the popular mind. 

“ Now let me ask,” said he, “ can any one believe, that, in the 
creation of this Government, its founders intended that it should 
have the power to acquire territory and form it into States, and 


ANDREW JOHNSON. 


441 


then permit them to go out of the Union ? Let us take a case. 
How long has it been since your armies were in Mexico, your 
brave men exposed to the diseases, the sufferings, incident to a 
campaign of that kind ; many of them falling at the point of the 
bayonet, consigned to their long, narrow home, with no winding- 
sheet but their blankets saturated with their blood? What did 
Mexico cost you ? One hundred and twenty million dollars. 
What did you pay for the country you acquired, besides ? Fif¬ 
teen million dollars. 

Peace was made; territory was acquired; and, in a few 
years, California, from that territory, erected herself into a free 
and independent State. Under the provisions of the Constitution, 
we admitted her as a member of this confederacy. And now, 
after having expended one hundred and twenty million dollars in 
the war; after having lost many of our bravest and most gallant 
men; after having paid fifteen million dollars to Mexico for the 
territory, and admitted it into the Union as a State, according to 
this modern doctrine, the National Government was just made to 
let them step in, and then to let them step out 1 Is it not absurd 
to say that California, on her own volition, without regard to the 
consideration paid for her, without regard to the policy which 
dictated her acquisition by the United States, can walk out, and 
bid you defiance ? 

“ But we need not stop here. Let us go to Texas. Texas was 
engaged in a revolution with Mexico. She succeeded in the as¬ 
sertion and establishment of her independence. She applied for 
admission into this family of States. After she was in, she was 
oppressed by the debts of the war which had resulted in her 
separation from Mexico. She was harassed by Indians on her 
border. There was an extent of territory that lies north, if my 
memory serves me right, embracing what is now called the Terri¬ 
tory of New Mexico. Texas had it not in her power to protect 
the citizens that were there. It was a dead limb, paralyzed, 
lifeless. 

The Federal Government came along as a kind physician, 
saying, ' We will take this limb, vitalize it by giving protection 
to the people, and incorporating it into a territorial government; 
and, in addition to that, we will give you ten million dollars, and 
you may retain your own public lands.^ And the other States 
were taxed in common to pay this ten million dollars. Now, after 

56 


442 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS, 


all this is done, is Texas to say, * I will walk out of this Union ’ ? 
Were there no other parties to this compact? Did we take in 
California, did we take in Texas, just to benefit themselves? 

Again : take the case of Louisiana. What did we pay for her 
in 1803? and for what was she wanted ? Was it just to let Louisi¬ 
ana into the Union? Was it just for the benefit of that particular 
locality? Was not the mighty West looked to? Was it not to 
secure the free navigation of the Mississippi River, the mouth of 
which was then in the possession of France? Yes: the naviga¬ 
tion of that river was wanted. Simply for Louisiana ? No, but 
for all the States. The United States paid fifteen million dol¬ 
lars, and France ceded the country to the United States. It re¬ 
mained in a territorial condition for a while, sustained and pro¬ 
tected by the strong arm of the Federal Government. We ac¬ 
quired the territory and the navigation of the river; and the 
money was paid for the benefit of all the States, and not of Louisi¬ 
ana exclusively .- 

^‘And now that this great valley is filled up; now that the navi¬ 
gation of the Mississippi is one hundred times more important 
than if was then; now, after the United States have paid the 
money, have acquired the title to Louisiana, and have incorpo¬ 
rated her into the confederacy, — it is proposed that she should 
go out of the Union! 

“In 1815, when her shores were invaded; when her city was 
about to be sacked; when her booty and her beauty were about 
to fall a prey to British aggression, — the brave men of Tennessee 
and of Kentucky and of the surrounding States rushed into her 
borders and upon her shores, and, under the lead of her own gal¬ 
lant Jackson, drove the invading forces away. And now, after all 
this, after the money has been paid, after the free navigation of 
the river has been obtained,— not for the benefit of Louisiana 
alone, but for her in common with all the States,— Louisiana sa}’s 
to the other States,— 

“‘We will go out of this confederacy. We do not care if you 
did fight our battles ; we do not care if you did acquire the free 
navigation of this river from France: we will go out, and consti¬ 
tute ourselves an independent power, and bid defiance to the 
other States.^ 

“ It may be, that, at this moment, there is not a citizen in the 
State of Louisiana who would think of obstructing the free navi- 


ANDREW JOHNSON. 


443 


gation of the river. But are not nations controlled by their inter¬ 
ests in varying circumstances ? And hereafter, when a conflict 
of interest arises, Louisiana might feel disposed to tax our citizens 
^ going down there. It is a power that I am not willing to concede 
to be exercised at the discretion of any authority outside of this 
Government. So sensitive have been the people of my State 
upon the free navigation of that river, that as far back as 1796, — 
now sixty-four years ago, — in their Bill of Rights, before they 
passed under the jurisdiction of the United States, they de¬ 
clared — 

^^^That an equal participation of the free navigation of the 
Mississippi is one of the inherent rights of the citizens of this 
State. It cannot, therefore, be conceded to any prince, potentate, 
power, person or persons, whatever.^ 

Tliis shows the estimate that people fixed on this stream sixty- 
four years ago; and now we are told, that, if Louisiana does go 
out, it is not her intention to tax the people above. Who can tell 
what may be the intention of Louisiana hereafter ? Are we will¬ 
ing to place the rights, the travel, and the commerce of our citi¬ 
zens at the discretion of any power outside of this Government ? 
I will not. 

How long is it since Florida lay on our coasts an annoyance 
to us ? And now she has got feverish about being an independ¬ 
ent and separate government, while she has not as many qualified 
voters as there are in one Congressional district of any other 
State. What condition did Florida occupy in 1811 ? She was in 
possession of Spain. What did the United States think about hav¬ 
ing adjacent territory outside of their jurisdiction ? Spain was 
inimical to the United States; and, in view of the great principles 
of self-preservation, the Congress of the United States passed a 
resolution, declaring that, if Spain attempted to transfer Florida 
into the hands of any other power, the United States would take 
possession of it. There was the Territory lying upon our border, 
outside of the jurisdiction of the United States; and we declared, 
by an act of Congress, that no foreign power should possess it. 

We went still farther, and appropriated one hundred thousand 
dollars, and authorized the President to enter, and take possession 
of it with the means placed in his hands. Afterwards we nego- 
ti^ited with Spain, and gave six million dollars for the Territory; 
and we established a territorial government for it. What next ? 


444 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


We undertook to drive out the Seminole Indians; and we had a 
war, in which this Government lost more than in all the other wars 
it was engaged in; and we paid the sum of twenty-five million 
dollars to get the Seminoles out of the swamps, so that the Ter¬ 
ritory could be inhabited by white men. 

But now that the Territory is paid for, the Indians are driven 
out, and twenty-five million dollars have been expended, they want 
no longer the protection of this Government, but will go out with¬ 
out consulting the other States ; without reference to the remain¬ 
ing parties to the compact. Where will she go ? Will she 
attach herself to Spain again? Will she pass back under the juris¬ 
diction of the Seminoles? After having been nurtured and pro¬ 
tected and fostered by all these States, now, without regard to 
them, is she to be allowed, at her own volition, to withdraw from 
the Union ? I say that she has no constitutional right to do it. 
When she does it, it is an act of aggression. If she succeeds, it 
will only be a successful revolution; if she does not succeed, she 
must take the penalties and terrors of the law. 

“ I have referred to the acts of Congress for acquiring Florida 
as setting forth a principle. What is that principle ? It is, that, 
from the geographical relations of this Territory to the United 
States, we authorized the President to expend a hundred thousand 
dollars to get a foothold there, and especially to take possession 
of it if it were likely to pass to any foreign power.” 

In such strains of eloquence and moral demonstration. Senator 
Johnson exposed the absurdity of the doctrine of secession. 

As the secessionists grew more determined in their measures, 
Mr. Johnson grew more bold in his opposition. The slaveholders 
became exceedingly exasperated. He was denounced as a traitor 
to the South, and was threatened with assassination. But he was 
the last man to be intimidated by menaces. The North looked 
with admiration upon the moral -courage he displayed, in thus 
contending, as it were single-handed, against almost every senator 
and representative of the South. In this admiration, they forgot 
that Mr. Johnson was, and ever had been, with the South in their 
claims. 

“ I am opposed,” he said, “ to secession. I believe it no remedy 
for the evils complained of. Instead of acting with that division 
of my Southern friends who take ground for secession, I shall take 
other grounds, while I try to accomplish the same end, I think that 


ANDREW JOHNSON. 


445 


this battle ought to be fought, not outside, but inside, of the 
Union. 

In consequence of this course, the wrath of the secessionists fell 
bitterly upon him. He was burned in eflSgy at Memphis j and on 
his return to Tennessee in April, 1861, he was insulted repeatedly 
by mobs, and threatened with lynching. A price even was set 
upon his head. This did but inspire his zeal, and enable him with 
more eloquence to plead the Union cause. 

Kentucky was now invaded, and the rebels in large armies were 
ravaging Tennessee, plundering, burning, murdering Every man 
who would not espouse their cause was in danger of being hung 
on the limb of the next tree. Never before was there more ferocity 
exhibited in a civilized land. A rebel band sacked his home, drove 
his sick wife and child into the streets, confiscated his slaves (for, 
with increasing wealth, he had become a slave-owner), and turned 
his house into a hospital and barracks for the soldiers. 

The heroism with which Mr, Johnson opposed the secessionists 
received a new impulse from these outrages; and the Union party 
at the North began to regard him as, in all points, in sympathy with 
them. Indeed, as he witnessed the violence of the proslavery- 
men, and saw clearly that the institution of slavery was at the 
foundation of all their treason, his speeches indicated a continually 
increasing sympathy with the views of the great Republican party 
which had elected Abraham Lincoln. He had already said,— 

We may as well talk of things as they are; for, if any thing can 
be trecLSon, is not levying war upon the Government treason ? Is 
not the attempt to take the property of the Government, and to 
expel the soldiers therefrom, treason? Is not attempting to resist 
the collection of the revenue, attempting to exclude the mails, 
and driving the Federal courts from her borders, treason? What 
is it ? It is treason^ and nothing but treason?^ 

This speech, to which reason could make no reply, was met with 
hisses, reproaches, threats, and a shower of abuse. Growing still 
bolder, he exclaimed, — 

Does it need any search to find those who are levying war, 
and giving aid and comfort to enemies against the United States? 
And this is treason. Treason ought to be punished. North and 
South; and, if there are traitors, they should be entitled to traitors’ 
re ward.’' 

Again he said, speaking of the rebels, Were I the President 


446 


* LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


of the United States, I would do as Thomas Jefferson did in 1806 
with Aaron Burr. I would have them arrested and tried for 
treason; and, if convicted, by the Eternal God they should.suffer 
the penalty of the law at the hands of the executioner ! Sir, 
treason must be punished. Its enormity, and the extent and 
depth of the offence, must be made known.’’ 

This was said in the Senate Chamber on the 2d of March, 1861. 
A few weeks after this, on the 19th of June, in a speech at Cincin¬ 
nati, he said, speaking in the same impassioned strain, I repeat, 
this odious doctrine of secession should be crushed out, destroyed, 
and totally annihilated. No government can stand, no religious 
or moral or social organization can stand, where this doctrine is 
tolerated. It is disintegration, universal dissolution. Therefore 
I repeat, that this odious and abominable doctrine (you must 
pardon me for using a strong expression, I do not say it in a pro¬ 
fane sense), — but this doctrine I conceive to be hell-born and hell- 
bound, and one which will carry every thing in its train, unless it 
is arrested, and crushed out from our midst.” 

Mr. Johnson was a Democrat of the Jacksonian school. Though 
he had strongly leaned to the doctrine of State sovereignty, and 
a strict construction of the Constitution, the assumptions of the 
secessionists were crowding him over into the ranks of those who 
would increase rather than diminish the power of the Central Gov¬ 
ernment. Thus upon this point he had abandoned the old Jeffer¬ 
sonian party, and allied himself with the Federalists. 

In February, 1862, by the capture of Forts tienry and Donelson, 
the main body of the rebel* army was driven out of Western and 
Middle Tennessee. President Lincoln, with the approval of the 
Senate, appointed Andrew Johnson Military Governor of the State. 
The appointment was received with enthusiasm by nearly all the 
loyal men in the Union. On the 12th of March, he reached Nash¬ 
ville, and commenced his administration with energy, which cheered 
the hearts of the long-suffering Unionists. 

The Mayor of Nashville and the City Council refused to take 
the oath of allegiance. He sent them to the penitentiary, and ap¬ 
pointed others in their place. The editor of The Nashville Ban¬ 
ner,” for uttering treasonable sentiments, was imprisoned, and his 
paper suppressed. All over the State, guerilla secessionists were 
maltreating the Unionists, plundering their homes, and driving 
tlieir wives and children into the streets, as they had done with 


ANDREW JOHNSON. 


447 


Mr. Johnson’s family. The diflSjCulty was met in the following 
proclamation: — 

Ij^ Andrew Johnson, do hereby proclaim, that, in every instance 
in which a Union man is arrested and maltreated by marauding 
bands^, five or more rebels, from the most prominent in the imme¬ 
diate neighborhood, shall be arrested, imprisoned, and otherwise 
dealt with as the nature of the case may require ; and further, in 
ail cases where the property of citizens, loyal to the Government 
of the United States, is taken or destroyed, full and ample remu¬ 
neration shaJl be made to them out of the property of such rebels 
in the vicinity as have sympathized with, and given aid, comfort, 
information, or encouragement to, the parties committing such 
depredations.” 

This order was issued on the 9th of May. Early in June, 
another order appeared, declaring that all persons guilty of utter¬ 
ing disloyal sentiments, who should refuse to take the oath of alle¬ 
giance and give bonds in a thousand dollars for their future good 
behavior, should be sent South, and treated as spies, that is, hung, 
if again found within the Federal lines. Six clergymen boldly 
preached treason from their pulpits. As they persisted, after due 
warning, five were sent to prison, and the sixth paroled in conse¬ 
quence of sickness. 

The rebel armies again entered the State. Nashville became 
isolated, and was in a state of siege. There were many families 
in Nashville who were starving, their husbands and fathers hav¬ 
ing joined the rebels. Gov. Johnson assessed a tax upon the 
wealthy rebels in the vicinity for their support. Timid ones 
began to talk of the necessity of surrender. “ I am no military 
man,” he said; “ but any one who talks of surrendering, I will 
shoot.” 

There was in the Union army in Tennessee a Methodist clergy¬ 
man, Col. Moody, who, in consequence of his patriotic zeal and 
chivalric bravery, accompanied at the same time with active piety 
in preaching and in prayer, had acquired the sobriquet of the 
^‘Fighting Parson.” Col. Moody chanced to be in Washington, 
and related to President Lincoln the following anecdote respect¬ 
ing Andrew Johnson. Gen. Buell, whose reputation as a deter¬ 
mined patriot did not stand very high, being then in command of 
the Union forces in Tennessee, had evacuated his position in the 
southern portion of that State, and had fallen back upon Nashville, 


448 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


followed by a rebel army. He then proposed abandoning the 
city. As we have mentioned, Gov. Johnson would not listen to 
this: on the contrary, he declared his determination to defend 
the city to the last extremity, and then to commit it to the flames, 
rather than surrender it to the rebels. 

He was so dissatisfled with Gen. BuelPs course, that he wrote 
a letter to President Lincoln, urging his removal. Gen. Thomas 
was in cordial sympathy with Gov. Johnson, and was placed in 
command of troops in the city. Soon, however, he took a more 
important command; and Gen. Negley took charge of the defence. 
The rebels made several attacks upon the outworks, but were gal¬ 
lantly repulsed. The city was now in a state of siege, provisions 
were very scarce, and the troops were on half-rations. 

Under these circumstances. Col. Moody had a chance inter¬ 
view with Gov. Johnson in Nashville. The governor was in his 
oflSce, in a state of great excitement, walking the floor, in con¬ 
versation with two gentlemen. The gentlemen withdrew as the 
colonel entered, leaving him alone with the governor. After a 
moment’s pause, the governor came up to him, evidentlj^ greatly 
agitated, and said, — 

“ Moody, we are sold out. Buell is a traitor. He is going to 
evacuate the city; and, in forty-eight hours, we shall be in the 
hands of the rebels.” 

He then commenced rapidly pacing the floor again, wringing 
his hands, and chafing like a caged tiger, utterly unmindful of his 
friend’s entreaties that he would become calm. Suddenly he 
stopped, and, turning to the colonel, said, Moody, can you pray? ” 
That is my business, sir,” the colonel replied, as a minister 
of the gospel.” 

Well, Moody,” said Gov. Johnson, “ I wish you would pray; ” 
and, as the colonel kneeled, the governor impetuously threw him¬ 
self upon his knees by his side. A Western Methodist clergy¬ 
man does not pray in low tones of voice, or with languid utter¬ 
ance. As with increasing fervor the colonel pleaded with God 
to interpose in their great peril, and save them, the governor 
threw one of his arms around his neck, and responded heartily, 
and with the deepest emotion. Closing the prayer with an em¬ 
phatic Amen ” from each, they arose. 

Gov. Johnson drew a long breath, seemed somewhat quieted, 
and said, “ Moody, I feel better. Will you stand by me?” 


ANDREW JOHNSON. 


449 


' “ Certainly I will,” was the reply. The governor paced the 
floor for a moment silently, and then said, ‘‘ Well, Moody, I can 
depend gn you. You are one in a hundred thousand.” Again he 
resumed his rapid walk in silent thoughtfulness ; when suddenly 
he wheeled round, and said, — 

0 Moody ! I don’t want you to think that I have become a 
religious man because I asked you to pray. I am sorry to say it; 
but I am not, and never pretended to be, religious. No one 
knows this better than you. But, Moody, there is one thing 
about it: I c?o believe in Almighty God ; and 1 believe, also, in the 
Bible; and I say, D—n me if Nashville shall be surrendered! ” 

Mr. Lincoln narrated this anecdote to Mr. Carpenter, who, ad¬ 
mirably commenting upon it, says, The incident was given with 
a thrilling effect, which mentally placed Johnson, for a time, along¬ 
side of Luther and Cromwell. Profanity or irreverence was lost 
sight of in the fervid utterance of a highly-wrought and great- 
souled determination, united with a rare exhibition of pathos and 
self-abnegation.” 

It was not untif October, 1862, that Gov. Johnson’s family suc¬ 
ceeded in reaching him, having passed through scenes of great 
hardship and peril. In September, Mr. Lincoln recommended an 
election for members of Congress in several districts in Tennes¬ 
see which had proved loyal. In December,* Gov. Johnson 
issued a proclamation for elections in the ninth and tenth dis¬ 
tricts. He was, however, emphatically opposed to allowing any 
rebel sympathizers to vote on any of the acts necessary to the 
restoration of the State. It was not enough in his view that the 
representative chosen should be loyal, but he must represent a 
loyal constituency. He closed his proclamation in these decisive 
words: — 

“ No person will be considered an* elector, qualified to vote, 
who, in addition to the other qualifications required by law, does 
not give satisfactory evidence, to the judges holding the election, 
of his loyalty to the Government of the United States.” 

About the same time, he imposed a tax of sixty thousand dollars 
upon the property of the secessionists for the support of the 
poor, the widows, and the orphans, who had been made such by 
the war. The current of events had apparently swept him along 
into entire sympathy with the Republican party. He was noc 
only opposed to secession, but he was opposed to slavery, its 

5 ^ 


450 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


originating cause, and to that senseless and haughty aristocracy 
which was founded in the oppression of the poor and the helpless. 
Although in the presidential canvass he had voted for John C. 
Breckinridge, he now avowed himself the cordial supporter of the 
measures of President Lincoln’s administration. 

In the autumn of 1863, he visited Washington to confer with 
the President in reference to the restoration of Tennessee to the 
Union. Our military operations had been so successful, that ail 
organized bodies of rebels had been driven from the State. The 
people who had been so long under the tyrannic ru’e of bands of 
thieves and murderers were rejoiced at their deliverance. Nu¬ 
merous conventions were held, where Gov. Johnson addressed 
the people with that directness, and cogency of utterance, which 
he had so eminently at his command. 

“ Tennessee,” said he, “ is not out of the Union, never has been, 
and never will be. The bonds of the Constitution and the Federal 
powers will always prevent that. This Government is perpetual. 
Provision is made for reforming the Government and amending 
the Constitution, and admitting States into the Union, not for 
letting them out. 

“ Where are we now? There is a rebellion. The rebel army 
is driven back. Here lies your State, — a sick man in his bed, 
emaciated and exhausted, paralyzed in all his powers, and unable 
to walk alone. The physician comes. The .Ignited States send 
an agent or a military governor, whichever you please to call him, 
to aid you in restoring your government. Whenever you desire 
in good faith to restore civil authority, you can do so; and a 
proclamation for an election will be issued as speedily as it is 
practicable to hold one. One by one, all the agencies of your 
State government will be set in motion. A legislature will be 
elected. Judges will be appointed temporarily, until 3 ^ou can 
elect them at the polls. And so of sheriffs, count 3 "-court judges, 
justices, and other officers, until the way is fairly open for the 
people, and all the parts of civil government resume their ordi¬ 
nary functions. This is no nice, intricate, metaphysical question; 
it is a plain, common-sense matter; and there is nothing in the 
way but obstinacy.” 

Gov. Johnson had now so thoroughly identified himself with 
the great Republican party, and had so warmly advocated its 
fundamental principles, that his name began to be spoken of as a 


ANDREW JOHNSON. 


451 


candidate for the vice-presidency at the approaching election. 
Hannibal Hamlin, of Maine, now filled that oflSce. He was a 
gentleman of high intellectual and moral worth, and discharged 
his duties to the full satisfaction of those who elected him. But, 
for obvious reasons, it was deemed very important, since Presi¬ 
dent Lincoln was from the West, to elect a Vice-President from 
some one of the Southern States. There was no other name so 
prominent as that of Andrew Johnson. The North had learned to 
admire the man. His boldness, his popular eloquence, his avowed 
hostility to slavery, his all-embracing patriotism, and the sufferings 
he had endured in consequence of his devotion to his country’s 
flag, all endeared him to the North ; and, with enthusiasm, the Re¬ 
publican party rallied round him. 

At the National Convention assembled in Baltimore on the 6th 
of June, 1864, almost by acclamation he was nominated on the 
same ticket with Abraham Lincoln, who was renominated for the 
presidency. Most cordially this nomination was responded to by 
the people. When this intelligence reached Nashville, an im¬ 
mense mass-meeting was assembled to give it their ratification. 
Gov. Johnson was invited to address them. In the speech which 
he made on this occasion, he said,— 

While society is in this disordered state, and we are seeking 
security, let us fix the foundations of the Government on princi¬ 
ples of eternal justice, which will endure for all time. There are 
those in our midst who are for perpetuating the institution of 
slavery. Let me say to you, Tennesseeans, and men from the 
Northern States, that slavery is dead. It was not murdered by 
me. I told you long ago what the result would be if you en 
deavored to go out of the Union to save slavery,— that the 
result would be bloodshed, rapine, devastated fields, plundered 
villages and cities; and therefore I urged you to remain in the 
Union. In trying to save slavery, you killed it, and lost your own 
freedom. Your slavery is dead; but I did not murder it. As 
Macbeth said to Banquo’s bloody ghost, — 

* Thou canst not say I did it: 

Never shake thy gory locks at me.' 

Slavery is dead, and you must pardon me if I do not mourn 
over its dead body. You can bury it out of sight. In restoring 
the State, leave out that disturbing and dangerous element, and 


452 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


use only those parts of the machinery which will move in har¬ 
mony. 

Now, in regard to emancipation, I want to say to the blacks, that 
liberty means liberty to work, and enjoy the fruits of your labor. 
Idleness is not freedom. I desire that all men shall have a’ fair 
start and an equal chance in the race of life; and let him succeed 
who has the most merit. This, I think, is a principle of Heaven. 
I am for emancipation, for two reasons: first, because it is right 
in.itself; and, second, because, in the emancipation of the slaves, 
we break down an odious and dangerous aristocracy. I think'that 
we are freeing more whites than blacks in Tennessee. I want to 
see slavery broken up ; and, when its barriers are thrown down, I 
want to see industrious, thrifty emigrants pouring in from all parts 
of the country.’’ 

The utterance of such sentiments endeared Gov. Johnson very 
much to all liberty-loving hearts. In a similar strain he wrote, 
in his letter to the convention accepting the nomination, — 

“ Before the Southern people assumed a belligerent attitude, 
and repeatedly since, I took occasion most frankly to declare 
the views I then entertained in relation to the wicked pur¬ 
poses of the Southern politicians. They have since undergone 
but little if any change. Time and subsequent events have 
rather confirmed than diminished my confidence in their correct¬ 
ness. 

“ At the beginning of this great struggle, I entertained the 
same opinion of it that I do now. In my place in the Senate, I 
denounced it as treason, worthy the punishment of death, and 
warned the Government and the people of the impending danger. 
But my voice was not heard, or my counsel heeded, until it was 
too late to avert the storm. It still continued to gather over 
us, without molestation from the authorities at Washington, until 
at length it broke with all its^fury upon the country; and now, if 
we would save the Government from being overwhelmed by it, 
we must meet it in the true spirit of patriotism, and bring 
traitors to the punishment due their crimes, and by force of arms 
crush out and subdue the last vestige of rebel authority in the 
State. 

“ I felt then, as now, that the destruction of the Government 
was deliberately determined upon by wicked and designing con¬ 
spirators, whose lives and fortunes were pledged to carry it out; 


ANDREW JOHNSON. 


4oa 

and that no compromise short of an unconditional recognition of 
the independence of the Southern States could have been, or could 
now be, proposed, which they would accept. The clamor for 
‘ Southern rights,’ as the rebel journals were pleased to designate 
their rallying-cry, was, not to secure their assumed rights in the 
Union and under the Constitution^ but to ‘disrupt the Government, 
and establish an independent organization, based upon slavery, 
which they could at all times control. 

The separation of the Government has for years past been 
the cherished purpose of the Southern leaders. Baffled in 1832 
by the stern, patriotic heroism of Andrew Jackson, they sullenly 
acquiesced, only to mature their diabolical schemes, and await 
the recurrence of a more favorable opportunity to execute them. 
Then the pretext was the tariff; and Jackson, after foiling their 
schemes of nullification and disunion, with prophetic perspicacity 
warned the country against the renewal of their efforts to dis¬ 
member the Government. 

In a letter dated May 1,1833, to the Rev. A. J. Crawford, after 
demonstrating the heartless insincerity of the Southern nullifiers, he 
said, ^ Therefore the tariff was only a pretext, and disunion and 
Southern Confederacy the real object. The next pretext will be 
the negro or slavery question.’ Time has fully verified this pre¬ 
diction ; and we have now not only ^ the negro or slavery question ’ 
as the pretext, but the real cause of the Rebellion; and both must 
go down together. It is vain to attempt to reconstruct the Union 
with the distracting element of slavery in it. Experience has 
demonstrated its incompatibility with free and republican govein- 
raents, and it would be unwise and unjust longer to continue it as 
one of the institutions of our country. While it remained subor¬ 
dinate to the Constitution and laws of the United States, I yielded 
to it my support; but when it became rebellious, and attempted to 
rise above the Government and control its action, I threw my 
humble influence against it. 

The authority of the Government is supreme, and will admit 
of no rivalry. No institution can rise above it, whether it be 
slavery or any other organized power. In our happy form of gov¬ 
ernment, all must be subordinate to the will of the people, when 
reflected through the Constitution, and laws made pursuant 
thereto, State or Federal. This great principle lies at the foun- 


454 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


dation of every government, and cannot be disregarded without 
the destruction of the Government itself. 

“ In accepting the nomination, I might here close ; but I cannot 
forego the opportunity of saying to my old friends of the Demo¬ 
cratic party proper, with whom I have so long and pleasantly been 
associated, that the hour has now come when that great party 
can vindicate its devotion to true Democratic policy, and measures 
of expediency. The war is a war of great principles. It involves 
the supremacy and life of the Government itself. If the Rebellion 
triumph, free government. North and South, fails. If, on the other 
hand, the Government is successful, — as I do not doubt that it 
will be, — its destiny is fixed, its basis is permanent and enduring, 
and its career of honor and glory is but just begun. In a great 
contest like this for the existence of free government, the path of 
duty is patriotism and principle. 

“ This is not the hour for strife and division among ourselves. 
Such differences of opinion onl}^. encourage the enemy, prolong 
the war, and waste the country. Unity of action, and concentration 
of power, should be our watchword and rallying-cry. This accom¬ 
plished, the time will rapidly approach when the armies in the 
field—that great power of the Rebellion — will be broken and 
crushed by our gallant officers and brav-e soldiers; and, ere long 
they will return to their homes and firesides, to resume the avoca¬ 
tions of peace, with the proud consciousness that they have aided 
in the noble work of re-establishing upon a surer and more perma¬ 
nent basis the great temple of American freedom.” 

These are surely noble truths, nobly uttered. They met with 
a cordial response in every loyal heart. Every sentence elevated 
Andrew Johnson in the estimation of the American people. The 
names of Lincoln and Johnson were not only placed upon the 
same ticket, but at the fireside, and from the church, prayers of 
gratitude, ascended to God that he had raised up a Southern man 
to co-operate with our own noble son of the West in the protection 
and redemption of our country. 

These feelings were increased to enthusiasm by an event which 
took place a few months after the date of this letter. 

On the 24th of October, 1864, Gov. Johnson addressed an im¬ 
mense assemblage of the colored people of Nashville in a speech 
of extraordinary eloquence and power. We give it here, some¬ 
what abbreviated from the admirable report furnished by a cor- 


ANDREW JOHNSON 


455 


respondent of “ The Cincinnati Gazette.^^ Gov. Johnson spoke 
from the steps leading from Cedar Street to the State-house 
yard. The whole street was packed with the densest mass of 
human beings; the great proportion of them, men, women and 
children, being the dusky-hued sons and daughters of bondage. 
The State-house yard, and also the great stone wall which sepa¬ 
rated it from the street, were covered with the multitude. It 
was in the evening, and many torches threw a weird-like light 
over the scene. The excitement was so intense, that there was 
almost breathless silence. In tones which the sublimity of the 
occasion rendered deep and tremulous, the governor began: — 
Colored men of Nashville, you have all heard the President’s 
proclamation, by which he announced to the world that the slaves 
in a large portion of the seceded States were thenceforth and 
forever free. For certain reasons which seemed wise to the 
President, the benefits of that proclamation did not extend to you 
or to your native State. Many of you were consequently left in 
bondage. The taskmaster’s scourge was not yet broken, and the 
fetters still galled your limbs. Gradually the iniquity has been 
passing away; but the hour has come when the last vestiges of it 
must be removed. 

^‘Consequently, I too, standing here upon the steps of the Capi¬ 
tol, with the past history of the State to witness, the present 
condition to guide, and its future to encourage me, — I, Andrew 
Johnson, do hereby proclaim freedom, full, broad, and uncondition¬ 
al, to every man in Tennessee.” 

It was (5ne of those moments when the speaker seems inspired, 
and when his audience, catching the inspiration, rises to his level, 
and becomes one with him. Strangely as some of the words of 
this immortal utterance sounded to those uncultivated ears, not 
one of them was misunderstood. With breathless attention, these 
sons of bondage hung upon ‘each syllable. Each individual 
seemed carved in stone until the last word of the grand climax 
was reached, and then the scene which followed beggars all 
description. One simultaneous roar of approval and delight burst 
from three thousand throats. Flags, banners, torches, and trans¬ 
parencies were waved wildly over the throng, or flung aloft in 
the ecstasy of joy. Drums, fifes, and trumpets added to the uproar; 
and the mighty tumult of this great mass of human beings, re¬ 
joicing for their race, woke up the slumbering echoes of the 


456 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


Capitol, vibrated through the length and breadth of the city, 
rolled over the sluggish waters of the Cumberland, and rang out 
far into the night beyond. • 

There were in the vicinity of Nashville two slaveholders of 
immense wealth. Their princely estates spread over thousands 
of acres, and were tilled by hundreds of unpaid bondmen. The 
old feudal barons did not wield more despotic power than Cockrill 
and Harding wielded over their cabined slaves. Both of these 
men were, of course, intense rebels. Their names were every¬ 
where prominent, and their great wealth gave them vast influence 
in the State. In allusion to them. Gov. Johnson continued: — 

I am no agrarian. I wish to see secured to every man, rich 
or poor, the fruits of his honest industry, effort, or toil. I want 
each man to feel that what he has gained by his own skill or 
talent or exertion is rightfully his, and his alone : but if, through an 
iniquitous system, a vast amount of wealth has been accumulated 
in the hands of one man, or a few men, then that result is wrong: 
and the sooner we can right it, the better for all concerned. It 
is wrong that Mack Cockrill and W. D. Harding, by means of 
forced and unpaid labor, should have monopolized so large a share 
of the lands and wealth of Tennessee ; and I say, that if their 
immense plantations were divided up, and parcelled out amongst 
a number of free, industrious, and honest farmers, it would give 
more good citizens to the Commonwealth, increase the wages of 
our mechanics, enrich the markets of our city, enliven all the 
arteries of trade, improve society, and conduce to the greatness 
and glory of the State. • 

The representatives of this corrupt, and, if you will permit me 
almost to swear a little, this damnable aristocracy, taunt us with 
our desire to see justice done, and charge us with favoring negro 
equality. Of all living men, they should be the last to mouth that 
phrase; and, even when uttered in their hearing, it should cause 
their cheeks to tinge, and burn with shame. Negro equality 
indeed ! Why, pass any day along the sidewalk of High Street, 
where these aristocrats more particularly dwell,—these aristo¬ 
crats, whose sons are nov.? in the bands of guerillas and cut¬ 
throats who prowl and rob and murder around our city, — pass 
by their dwellings, I say, and you will see as many mulatto as 
negro children, the former bearing an unmistakable resemblance 
to their aristocratic owners. 


ANDREW JOHNSON. 


457 


“ Colored men of Tennessee, this, too, shall cease. Your wives 
and daughters shall no longer be dragged into a concubinage, 
compared to wliich polygamy is a virtue, to satisfy the brutal 
lusts of slaveholders and overseers. Henceforth the sanctity of 
God’s law of marriage shall be respected in your persons, and 
the great State of Tennessee shall no more give her sanction t» 
your degradation and your shame.” 

Thank God, thank God ! ” came from the lips of a thousand 
women, who, in their own persons, had experienced the iniquity 
of the man-seller’s code. “ Thank God ! ” fervently echoed the fa¬ 
thers, husbands, and brothers of these women. 

And if the law protects you,” he continued, in the posses¬ 
sion of your wives and children, if the law shields those whom 
you hold dear from the unlawful grasp of lust, will you endeavor 
to be true to yourselves, and shun, as it were death itself, the 
path of lewdness, crime, and vice ? ” 

We will, we will! ” cried the assembled thousands; and, join¬ 
ing in a sublime and tearful enthusiasm, another mighty shout 
went up to heaven. 

“ Looking at this vast crowd,” the governor continued, “ and 
reflecting through what a storm of persecution and obloquy they 
are compelled to pass, I am almost induced to wish, that, as in the 
days of old, a Moses might arise, who should lead them safely to 
their promised land of freedom and happiness.” 

You are our Moses !” shouted several voices ; and the excla¬ 
mation was caught up and cheered until the Capitol rang again. 

God,” continued the governor, “ no doubt has prepared some¬ 
where an instrument for the great work he designs to perform 
in behalf of this outraged people; and, in due time, your leader 
will come forth, your Moses will be revealed to you.” 

“ We want no Moses but you ! ” again shouted the crowd. 

“ Well, then,” Gov. Johnson replied, humble and unworthy 
as I am, if no other better shall be found, I will indeed be your 
Moses, and lead you through the Red Sea of war and bondage 
to a fairer future of liberty and peace. I speak now as one 
who feels the world his country, and all who love equal rights 
his friends. I speak, too, as a citizen of Tennessee. I am here on 
my own soil; and here I mean to stay, and fight this great battle 
of truth and justice to a triumphant end. Rebellion and slavery 
shall, by God’s good help, no longer pollute our State. Loyal 
68 


458 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


men, whether white or black, shall alone control her destinies , 
and, when this strife in which we are all engaged is past, I trust, 
I know, we shall have a better state of things, and shall all rejoice 
that honest labor reaps the fruit of its own industry, and that 
every man has a fair chance in the race of life.’’ 

It is impossible to describe the enthusiasm which followed these 
words. Joy beamed in every countenance. Tears and laughter 
followed each other in swift succession. The great throng moved 
and swayed back and forth in the intensity of emotion, and shout 
after shout rent the air. This was one of those scenes of moral 
sublimity which few on earth have ever been permitted to wit¬ 
ness. The speaker seemed inspired with very unusual power to 
meet the grandeur of the occasion and the theme. As he de¬ 
scended from the steps of the Capitol in this proudest, holiest 
hour of his life, the dense throng parted, as by magic, to let 
him through ; and, all that night long, his name was mingled with 
the curses and the execrations of the traitor and oppressor, 
and with the blessings of the oppressed and the poor. Gen. Sher¬ 
man was then sweeping through the very heart of the rebellious 
States, and Grant was thundering at the gates of Petersburg and 
Richmond. Tennessee had returned to her allegiance, revised her 
Constitution, and abolished slavery. 

Mr. Johnson has always been a little boastful of his lowly origin. 
Certainly it is to his credit, that, from a position so extremely 
obscure, he should have raised himself to stations of so much 
eminence. In a speech delivered at Nashville soon after his nomi¬ 
nation, he said, — 

‘^In accepting the nomination, I shall stand on the principles I 
here enunciate, let the consequences for good or for evil be what 
Ihey may. A distinguished Georgian told me in Washington, after 
the election of Mr. Lincoln, and just before his inauguration, that 
the people of Georgia would not consent to be governed by a man 
who had risen from the ranks. It was one of the principal objec¬ 
tions of the people of the South to Mr. Lincoln. What will they 
do now, when they have to take two rulers who have risen from 
the ranks ? This aristocracy is antagonistic to the principles of 
free democratic government, and the time has come when it must 
give up the ghost. The time has come when this rebellious ele¬ 
ment of aristocracy must be punished. 

‘‘ The day when they could talk of their three or four thousand 


ANDREW JOHNSON. 


459 


acres of land, tilled by their hundreds of negroes, is past; and the 
hour for the division of these rich lands among the energetic and 
laboring masses is at hand. The field is to be thrown open; and I 
now invite the energetic and industrious of the North to come 
and occupy it, and apply here the same skill and industry which 
has made the North so rich. I am for putting down the aristoc¬ 
racy, and dividing out their possessions among the worthier labor¬ 
ers of any and all colors.” 

The election which took place on the 14th of November, 1864, 
resulted in the choice of Lincoln and Johnson by one of the 
largest majorities ever given. On the 4th of March, 1865, Mr. 
Johnson was inaugurated Vice-President of the United States. 
The clouds of gloom which had so long overhung the land were 
beginning to break. Grant and Sherman were dealing the armies 
of Rebellion annihilating blows. On the 3d of April, there was 
a meeting in Washington to rejoice over the glad tidings of the 
evacuation of Petersburg and Richmond. In the address which 
Vice-President Johnson made at that meeting, he said, — 

At the time that the traitors in the Senate of the United 
States plotted against the Government, and entered into a conspir¬ 
acy more foul, more execrable, and more odious, than that of Cati¬ 
line against the Romans, I happened to be a member of that body, 
and, as to loyalty, stood solitary and alone among the senators from 
the Southern States. I was then and there called upon to know 
what I would do with such traitors; and I want to repeat my re¬ 
ply here. 

said, if we had an Andrew Jackson, he would hang them as 
high as Haman. But as he is no more, and sleeps in his grave, in 
his own beloved State, where traitors and treason have even in¬ 
sulted his tomb and the very earth that covers his remains, humble 
as I am, when you ask me what I would do, my reply is, I would 
arrest them ; I would try them; I would convict them ; and I 
would hang them. 

Since the world began, there has never been a rebellion of 
such gigantic proportions, so infamous in character, so diabolical 
in motive, so entirely disregardful of the laws of civilized war. It 
has introduced the most savage mode of warfare ever practised 
upon earth. 

One word more, and I am done. It is this ; I am in favor of 
leniency ; but, in my opinion, evil-doers should be punished. Trca- 


460 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


son is the highest crime known in the catalogue of crimes; and 
for him that is guilty of it, for him that is willing to lift his impious 
hand against the authority of the nation, I would say death is too 
easy a punishment. My notion is, that treason must be made odious, 
and traitors must be punished and impoverished, their social power 
broken: they must be made to feel the penalty of their crime. 
You, my friends, have traitors in your very midst, and treason 
needs rebuke and punishment here as well as elsewhere. It is 
not the men in the field who are the greatest traitors: it is the 
men who have encouraged them to imperil their lives, while they 
themselves have remained at home, expending their means and 
exerting all their power to overthrow the Government. Hence I 
say this, ‘ The halter to intelligent, influential traitors ! ^ 

To the honest boy, to the deluded man, who has been deceived 
into the rebel ranks, I would extend leniency ; but the leaders I 
would hang. I hold, too, that wealthy traitors should be made 
to remunerate those men who have suffered as a consequence of 
their crime.’’ 

The great rebel army under Gen. Lee surrendered on the 9th of 
April, 1865. Five days after this, on the 14th, while the bells 
of joy were ringing all over the nation at the utter overthrow 
of the Rebellion, the bullet of the assassin pierced the brain of 
President Lincoln. On the morning of the 15th, the fearful 
tidings quivered along the wires, creating almost universal con¬ 
sternation and grief, Abraham Lincoln died this morning at twenty- 
two minutes after seven o’’clock ! 

Immediately upon his death,.Hon. James Speed, Attorney-Gen¬ 
eral of the United States, waited upon Vice-President Johnson 
with the following official communication : — 


Washington City, April 15, 1865. 

Andrew. Johnson, Vice-Preddentof the United States. 

Sir, — Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States, was 
shot by an assassin last evening, at Ford’s Theatre, in this city, 
and died at the hour of twenty-two minutes after seven o’clock 
this morning. About the same time at which the President was 
shot, an assassin entered the sick-chamber of Hon. W. H. Seward, 
Secretary of State, and stabbed.him in several places in the throat, 
neck, and face, severely, if not mortally, wounding him. Other 


ANDREW JOHNSON. 


461 


members of the Secretary’s family were dangerously wounded by 
the assassin while making his escape. 

By the death of President Lincoln, the office of President has 
devolved, under the Constitution, upon you. The emergency of 
the Government demands that you should immediately qualify 
yourself according to the requirements of the Constitution, and 
enter upon the duties of President of the United States. If you 
will please make known your pleasure, such arrangements as you 
deem proper will be made. 

Your obedient servants, 

HUGH M‘CULLOCH, Secretary of the Treasury. 

EDWIN M. STANTON, Secretary of War. 

GIDEON WELLES, Secretary of ike Navy. 

WILLIAM DENNISON, Postmaster-General. 

J. P. USHER, Secretary of the Interior. 

JAMES SPEED, Attorney-General. 

At ten o’clock, but little more than two and a half hours after the 
death of the President, a small but august assemblage met at the 
private apartments of Mr. Johnson, and Chief Justice Chase 
administered to him the oath of office. The ceremonies were 
brief, but invested with unusual solemnity, in consequence of the 
sad event which rendered them necessary. 

When Mr. Johnson was inaugurated Vice-President, an unto¬ 
ward event occurred, which excited great pain and anxiety 
throughout the nation. It was an event which attracted such 
universal attention and such severity of comment at the time, that 
historic fidelity requires that it should be alluded to. Mr. Johnson 
had been very sick with fyphoid-fever, and was in a state of 
extreme debility. He could not walk his chamber-fioor without 
tottering. His physician judged it imprudent for him to attempt 
to make his appearance at the inauguration ; but his anxiety was 
so great to attend ceremonies in which he was to assume such 
momentous responsibilities, that, by the reluctant consent of the 
physician, he went, taking a stimulant to strengthen him for the 
hour. The stimulant was not a strong one ; but, in his weak and 
fevered state, it so overcame him, that in the Senate Chamber, 
before the assembled dignitaries of our own and other lands, in 
his inaugural address, he uttered incoherent thoughts which 
mantled the cheek of the nation with a blush. 

A generous people promptly, gladly, accepted the explanation. 


462 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


The affair, for a moment so humiliating to national pride, was for¬ 
given and forgotten. With confiding-trust, Andrew Johnson was 
received ^.s the worthy successor of Abraham Lincoln, the loved 
and the lamented. Seldom, if ever, has a President entered upon 
his office so deeply enshrined in the affections and confidence of 
the Christian people all over our land as did President Johnson. 
Two days after he had assumed the duties of his responsible posi¬ 
tion, a delegation of citizens from Illinois, who were about to ac¬ 
company the remains of President Lincoln to the burial-ground in 
Springfield, called upon President Johnson to pay him their re¬ 
spects. Gov. Oglesby, in behalf of the delegation, said,— 

I take much pleasure in presenting to you this delegation of 
the citizens of Illinois, representing almost every portion of the 
State. We are drawn together by the mournful events of the 
past few days to give some feeble expression, by appropriate and 
respectful ceremonies, to the feelings we, in common with the 
whole nation, realize as pressing us to the earth. We thought it 
not inappropriate, before we should separate, even in this sad 
hour, to seek this interview with your Excellency, that while the 
bleeding heart is pouring out its mournful anguish over the death 
of our beloved late President, the idol of our State and the pride 
of our whole country, we may earnestly express to you, the living 
head of this nation, our deliberate, full, and abiding confidence in 
you, as the one who, in these dark hours, must bear upon youiself 
the mighty responsibility of maintaining, defending, and directing 
its affairs. 

The record of your whole past life, familiar to all, the splen¬ 
dor of your recent gigantic efforts to stay the hand of treason 
and assassination, and restore the flag to the uttermost bounds of 
the Republic, assure that noble State which we represent, and, 
we believe, the people of the United States, that we may safely 
trust our destinies in your hands. And to this end we come in 
the name of the State of Illinois, and, we confidently believe, fully 
and faithfully expressing the wishes of our people, to present and 
pledge to you the cordial, earnest, and unremitting purpose of our 
State to give your administration the strong support we have 
heretofore given to the administration of our lamented late Presi¬ 
dent, the policy of whom we have heretofore, do now, and shall 
continue to indorse. 

President Johnson, in his reply, said, “ I have listened with pro- 


ANDREW JOHNSON. 


463 


found emotion to the kind words you have addressed to me. The 
visit of this large delegation to speak to me, through you, sir, 
these words of encouragement, I had not anticipated. In the 
midst of the saddening circumstances which surround us, and the 
immense responsibility thrown upon me, an expression of the con¬ 
fidence of individuals, and still more of an influential body like 
that before me, representing a great commonwealth, cheers and 
strengthens my heavily-burdened mind. I am at a loss for words 
to respond. In an hour like this of deepest sorrow, were it pos¬ 
sible to embody in words the feelings of my bosom, I could not 
command my lips to utter them. Perhaps the best reply I could 
make, and the one most readily appropriate to‘your kind assurance 
of confidence, would be to receive them in silence. 

“ The throbbings of my heart, since the sad catastrophe which 
has appalled us, cannot be reduced to words; and oppressed as I 
am with the new and great responsibility which has devolved 
upon me, and saddened with grief, I can with difficulty respond to 
you at all. But I cannot permit such expressions of the confi¬ 
dence reposed in me by the people to pass without acknowledg¬ 
ment. Sprung from the people myself, every pulsation in the 
popular heart finds an immediate answer in my own. Your words 
of countenance and encouragement sank deep into my heart; and, 
were I even a coward, I could not but gather from them strength 
to carry out my convictions of right. Thus feeling, I shall enter 
upon the discharge of my great duty firmly, steadfastly, if not 
with the signal ability exhibited by my predecessor, which is still 
fresh in our sorrowing minds. 

In what I say on this occasion, I shall indulge in no petty 
spirit of anger, no feeling of revenge. But we have beheld a 
notable event in the history of mankind. In the midst of the 
American people, where every citizen is taught to obey law and 
observe the rules of Christian conduct, our Chief Magistrate, the 
beloved of all hearts, has been assassinated; and when we trace 
this crime to its cause, when we remember the source whence 
the assassin drew his inspiration, and then look at the result, we 
stand yet more astounded at this most barbarous, most diabolical 
assassination. Such a crime as the murder of a great und good 
man, honored and revered, the beloved and the hope of the peo¬ 
ple, springs not alone from a solitary individual of ever so desper¬ 
ate wickedness. We can trace its cause through successive steps, 



464 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


without my enumerating them here, back to that source which is 
the spring of all our woes. 

No one can say, that, if the perpetrator of this fiendish deed 
be arrested, he should not undergo the extremest penalty the law 
knows for crime. None will say that mercy should interpose. 
But is he alone guilty? Here, gentlemen, you perhaps expect 
me to present some indication of my future policy ? One thing 
1 will say. Every era teaches its lesson. The times we live in 
are not without instruction. The American people must be 
taught,'if they do not already feel, that treason is a crime, and 
must be punished; that the Government will not always bear 
with its enemies; that it is strong, not only to protect, but to 
punish. 

‘‘When we turn to the criminal code, and examine the catalogue 
of crimes, we find there arson laid down as a crime, with its ap¬ 
propriate penalty ; we find there theft and robbery and murder 
given as crime; and there, too, we find the last and highest of 
crimes, treason. With other and inferior offences our people are 
familiar; but, in our peaceful history, treason has been almost un¬ 
known. The people must understand that it is the blackest of 
crimes, and that it will be severely punished. I make this allu¬ 
sion, not to excite the already exasperated feelings of the public, 
but to point out the principles of public justice which should 
guide our action at this particular juncture, and which accord 
with sound public morals. Let it be engraven on every heart 
that treason is a ‘crime, and that traitors shall suffer its pen¬ 
alty. 

“ While we are appalled, overwhelmed, at the fall of one man in 
onr midst by the hand of a traitor, shall we allow men, I care not 
by what weapons, to attempt the life of a State with impunity ? 
While we strain our minds to comprehend the enormity of this 
assassination, shall we allow the nation to be assassinated ? I 
speak in no spirit of unkindness. I do not harbor bitter or re¬ 
vengeful feelings towards any. I know that men love to have 
their actions spoken of in connection with acts of mercy; and 
how easy it is to yield to this impulse I But we must not forget 
that what may be mercy to the individual is cruelty to the State. 
In the exercise of mercy, there should be no doubt left that this 
high prerogative is not used to relieve a few at the expense of tlie 
many. Be assured that I shall never forget that I am not to ecu 


ANDHEW JOHNSON. 


465 


suit my own feelings alone, but to give an account to the whole 
people. 

“ In regard to my future course, I will now make no professions, 
no pledges. I have long labored for the amelioration and eleva¬ 
tion of the great mass of mankind. 1 believe that government 
was made for man, not man for government. This struggle of the 
people against the most gigantic rebellion the world ever saw has 
demonstrated that tiie attachment of the people to their Govern¬ 
ment is the strongest national defence human wisdom can devise. 
My past life, especially m}^ course during the present unholy Re¬ 
bellion, is before you. I have no principles to retract. I have 
no professions to offer. I shall not attempt to anticipate the fu¬ 
ture. As events occur, and it becomes necessary for me to act, I 
shall dispose of each as it arises.’^ 

A nation might well be proud of a ruler with so noble a record, 
cherishing such sentiments, and capable of expressing them with 
so much force and eloquence. In conformity with these princi¬ 
ples, the very large majority of Congress, both the Senate and 
the House, began to adopt those measures of reconstruction 
through which the States which had been in rebellion could be 
restored to co-operation in the government of the Union. The 
rebels themselves declared, in the loudest and most defiant tones, 
that they were conquered only, not subdued; that, in heart, they 
were as relentless and determined as ever ; and that, having failed 
upon the bloody field, they would renew the conflict, as of old, 
upon the floor of Congress. But the patriotic country felt safe 
in the assurance that we had a President in perfect harmony 
with the noblest Congress which had ever convened. But, to the 
surprise and almost the consternation of both Congress and the 
great mass of the people, it was found that the President, through 
some inexplicable influence, seemed to have changed his views, 
and was opposing vehemently, and with mortifying indecorum, 
those measures which Congress, with the general approval of the 
loyal population, would adopt, to protect the friends of the Gov¬ 
ernment from the vengeance of unrepentant rebels, and to shield 
our free institutions from renewed assaults. 

The change was one of the most sudden and marvellous on 
record. Almost in an hour, the rebels and their sympathizers, 
who had been burning President Johnson in eflSgy, and denoun¬ 
cing him in the strongest language of vituperation which contempt 

59 


466 


LIVE^ OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


and rage could coin, were shouting his praises, and rushing in 
from all quarters to greet him with their hosannas. The friends 
who elected him, who loved him, who leaned upon him for their 
support, were struck aghast. For a time, they were mute in grief. 
Then came remonstrance and the angry strife. The bitterness of 
the old days of slavery domination, which we hoped had passed 
away forever, was revived. It seemed as though all our blood 
had been shed and our treasure expended in vain. The President 
urgently advocated measures of reconstruction, which, in the 
judgment of Congress, and of the vast majority of the people of 
the North, would place the Government again in the hands of 
those rebels and their sympathizers who had deluged our land in 
blood, and swept it with the flames of war, that they might over¬ 
throw our free institutions, and establish human bondage forever 
as the corner-stone of this republic. 

The great question upon which this strife arose was, “ Shall 
the United-States Government extend its protection to all loyal 
men, without distinction of race, who, during the Rebellion, proved 
true to the national flag?’’ President Johnson is understood to 
assume that we have no such right; that we must leave the na¬ 
tion’s defenders, black and white, in the Southern States, to the 
tender mercies of the rebels ; that the rebel States have never 
been out of the Union, have never forfeited their political rights ; 
and that if they now meet, and elect delegates to Congress, we 
are bound to receive those delegates upon their oath of loyalty; 
each house of Congress, of course, having the right to reject or 
expel any member who is personally obnoxious. 

This principle of reconstruction is revolting to the conscience 
of the great majority of Congress and of the loyal North. Mr. 
Peter Cooper, whose virtues have given him a national fame, 
in an admirable letter of respectful yet earnest remonstrance to 
President Johnson, says,— 

“ I, with thousands of others who labored to aid the Govern¬ 
ment in putting down the Rebellion, would have rejoiced if Con¬ 
gress could have found all the reports of the continued persecu¬ 
tion of Union men throughout the South to be groundless and 
false. 

“ The whole Republican party would have rejoiced if Congress 
could have found it safe to admit the members offered from South¬ 
ern States at once to a full share in the Government. 


ANDREW JOHNSON. 


46C 


This being my wish does not authorize me to denounce the 
majority in Congress, and accuse them of being radicals and trai¬ 
tors, ^ hanging on the skirts of a Government which they are try¬ 
ing to destroy.^ 

It was said of old, the sin of ingratitude is worse than the sin 
of witchcraft. 

‘‘ To my mind, our nation must live in everlasting infamy if we 
fail to secure a full measure of justice to an unfortunate race of 
men who were originally hunted down in their own country, and 
carried off and sold, like beasts, into an abject slavery, with all 
their posterity. 

“ This enslaved race has the strongest possible claims for kind¬ 
ness, as well as justice, at the hands of the people and govern¬ 
ment of the whole country, and more especially from the people of 
the South. These unfortunate slaves have done a great portion 
of the labor that has fed and clothed the whites and blacks of the 
Southern country. 

As true as the laborer is worthy of his hire, so true is it that 
we, as a nation, cannot withhold justice and equal rights from a 
race of men that has fought and bled and labored to defend and 
protect the Union of the States in the hour of our nation’s great 
est extremity. 

The enemies of our country and government are now trying 
to persuade the community to believe that a war of races would 
result from giving the black man the same measure of justice and 
rights which the white men claim for themselves. This will be 
found to be a groundless fear. Our national danger will always 
result from unequal and partial laws. We cannot make laws 
which wdll oppress and keep in ignorance the poor, without bring¬ 
ing on ourselves and our country the just judgment of a righteous 
God, who will reward us as a nation according to our works. 

indulge the hope that you will see, before it is entirely <00 
late, the terrible danger of taking council with Northern men in 
sympathy with the rebels who fought the Government with all 
the euerg}^ of desperation to accomplish the destruction of our 
Government, instead of taking counsel with those friends who 
elected you, — friends who have been and are as desirous as you 
can possibly be to secure the adoption of every measure calcu- 
iated to promote the substantial welfare of all parts of our com¬ 
mon country.’^ 


468 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


As to the question whether the National Government has the 
constitutional right to extend its protection to its defenders in the 
several States, much depends upon the theory which one adopts in 
reference to the war of the Rebellion. A contest of arms between 
an established and recognized government and a military force 
formed by a combination of individual citizens is civil war. The 
insurgents, when subdued or captured, are responsible individually 
for their acts, and are consequently amenable to the courts of law 
on charges of treason and rebellion. 

A contest of arms between any government and a military force 
organized under the authority of any other governmentj exercising 
an independent sovereignty, is international war. The persons 
engaged in the military operations are not individually responsi¬ 
ble for their acts before courts of justice on criminal charges, 
but, when subdued or captured, can only be treated as prisoners 
of war. The victorious government is, however, entitled to exer¬ 
cise over the one that is subdued the rights of a conqueror as 
defined by the laws of war. 

The Constitution of the United States is of a twofold character. 
It establishes a government with sovereign powers in respect to 
certain specified interests, and, to this extent, is simply a consti¬ 
tution of government framed by a single people. It also at the 
same time includes a covenant of union made by a number ’of 
separate governments, each exercising its own independent sover¬ 
eignty in respect to certain other interests ; and to this extent the 
act is of the nature of 2 ileague or treaty,hmdimg several sovereign¬ 
ties to the fulfilment of certain obligations towards each other. 

In case of hostilities arising among the parties of this instru¬ 
ment, the question whether, in a legal point of view, the conflict 
is to be regarded as a civil war or an international war, in respect 
to its character and effects, will depend upon the nature of it in 
relation to these two different aspects of the instruments ; that is, 
whether the insurgents act in an individual or in a corporate 
capacity. 

If it is a contest between the General Government and a force 
organized by individual citizens, it is an insurrection, or civil war. 
The insurgents may be so numerous and so well organized as to 
force the Government, during the contest, to grant them belliger¬ 
ent rights; but, when vanquished or captured, they are amenable 
to the courts of law on charges of rebellion or treason. 


ANDREW JOHNSON. 


469 


If, on the other hand, it is admitted by the North to be, what 
the South claims it to be, a contest between the General Govern 
ment and a force organized by and acting in subordination to any 
one or more of the State governments, under proceedings regu¬ 
larly taken by the State authorities, in the manner prescribed by 
law, then it is of the nature of international war, in so far as that 
the governments which inaugurate it assume the responsibility 
of it, and those acting under their authority are personally re¬ 
leased. They can only be treated, when vanquished or captured, 
as prisoners of war. The victorious governments are entitled to 
exercise over the States that are vanquished the rights of con¬ 
querors, as regulated by the laws of war. 

There can be no question that the latter was the view univer¬ 
sally taken by those engaged in the Rebellion. They formed ^a 
government with its constitution and all its organized officers. 
They unfurled their flag, and conscripted their soldiers. They 
raised large armies, and issued letters of marque. They sent 
their ambassadors to knock at the doors of other governments for* 
admission. In point of fact, they sundered all their relations with 
the National Government, and seditiously, illegally, unconstitu¬ 
tionally, but yet really, became an independent government, and 
maintained that independence during a struggle of four years’ 
duration. They were so strong, that they compelled the National 
Government to recognize it as war, to exchange prisoners, and 
grant other belligerent rights. 

At length, they were conquered. Their army was crushed; 
their piratic navy was annihilated. Their constitution and laws 
vanished. Their flag sank into the dust. Whatever may be their 
individual responsibility as rebels in organizing this hostile gov¬ 
ernment, there can be no question whatever that they did, infaxd, 
sunder their relations with the National Government; that they 
did, in fact, assume and exercise the functions of sovereignty; and 
that, having thus been vanquished, the victors are entitled to 
exercise over them the rights of conquerors, as regulated by the 
laws of war. 

Within the territorial limits of this rebellious nation, there were 
thousands of patriotic white men who remained true to ‘their 
country and its flag. In consequence, they were exposed to 
every conceivable outrage. Multitudes of them were scourged, 
shot, and hung. There were some millions of colored men who 


470 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


were patriotic to their hearts’ core. The object of the Rebellion 
was to strengthen the chains which had so long held them in bond¬ 
age. The result of the Rebellion was to break those chains, and 
to let the oppressed go free. And now the unrepentant rebels 
are exceedingly exasperated against those Union white men,'and 
those patriots of African descent whose sympathies were with the 
National Government; and these rebels implore the Northbrn 
people to be magnanimous, and to interpose no obstacle to their 
wreaking their vengeance upon the Union people of the South. 

This is the great question of reconstruction which is now agi¬ 
tating the land. President Johnson is understood to advocate the 
restoration of the conquered States to the Union, without exact 
ing from them any pledges whatever which will protect from vio* 
lehce the friends of the Union within their borders. He is under- 
s'tood to assume that the Rebellion was merely a series of illegal 
acts of private individuals; that the States in which the Rebel¬ 
lion took place, were, during the Rebellion, completely competent 
, States of the United States as they were before the Rebellion, 
and were bound by all the obligations which the Constitution im¬ 
posed, and entitled to all its privileges; and that now, whenever 
representatives appear from such States and demand admission, 
there is but one question which we have any right to ask; and 
that is, Have these States organized governments which are re¬ 
publican in form ? ” It is said that each house of Congress can 
decide respecting the individual merits of the representative 
who claims admission to their body, and can receive or reject as 
it pleases; but, as to the governments which they represent, 
“ how they were formed, under what auspices they were formed, 
are inquiries with which Congress has no concern. The right of 
the people to forpi a government for themselves has never been 
questioned.” 

It seems to be assumed, in the first place, that the States have 
never rebelled: individuals only have committed that crime. And 
then, in the second place, it is assumed that these individuals have 
forfeited nothing by their treason; that they are entitled to all the 
rights and privileges which they ever enjoyed; and that they can 
send their representatives to Congress, and demand admission for 
them, with just as much assurance as if they had ever remained 
loyal. This unconditional admission of the rebel States, without 
securing in advance the imperilled rights of the loyalists, both 


ANDREW JOHNSON 


471 


white and black, is regarded by the great mass of the Northern 
people as a crime which would justly expose the nation to the 
scorn of the world. 

In September, 1866, there was a large convention in Philadel¬ 
phia of loyal men from all the States which had been in rebellion. 
In their appeal to their fellow-citizens of the United States, they 
say,— 

‘‘ The representatives of eight millions of American citizens 
appeal for protection and justice to their friends and brothers in 
the States that have been spared the cruelties of the Rebellion 
and the direct horrors of civil war. Here, on the spot where free¬ 
dom was proffered and pledged by the fathers of the Republic, we 
implore your help against a re-organized oppression, whose sole 
object is to remit the control of our destinies to the contrivers of 
the Rebellion after they have been vanquished in honorable bat¬ 
tle ; thus at once to punish us for our devotiob to our country, 
and intrench themselves in the official fortifications of the Gov¬ 
ernment.” 

In illustration of the manner in which the loyal colored popula¬ 
tion could be oppressed, and, while nominally free, could have 
burdens imposed upon them more intolerable than they ever bore 
before, the following statements are' made: — 

The laws passed by some of our legislatures provide that all 
persons engaged in agricultural pursuits, as laborers, shall be 
required, during the first ten days of the month of January of 
each year, to make contracts for the ensuing year; and, in case of 
failure, such laborer shall be arrested by the civil authorities, and 
hired out; and, however much the laborer may be dissatisfied, he 
dare not leave, under the penalty of being apprehended, and forced 
to labor upon the public works, without compensation, until he 
will consent to return to his employer. It is punished with fine 
and imprisonment to entice or persuade away, feed, harbor, or 
secrete, any such laborer. In this way they are compelled to con- 
tract within a limit often days, punished by legal enslavement for 
violating a simple contract, and prevented from obtaining shelter, 
food, or employment. By severest penalties, he has been made a 
serf in the name of freedom, and suffers all the evils of the insti¬ 
tution of slavery, without receiving that care which the master, 
from a sense of his own interest, would give to his bondsmen.” 

Gov. Hamilton of Texas stated before an immense meeting 


472 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


of the citizens of New Haven, Conn., on the evening of Sept. 15, 
1866, that he could testify from his own personal knowledge, that 
in the single State of Texas, during the last six months, more than 
one thousand colored men had been brutally and wantonly mur¬ 
dered,— unoffending men, murdered simply because they were 
colored men and loyalists; and that not one of their murderers 
had been arrested. He stated that no Union white man‘dared to 
attempt to'protect them; that, should he make the attempt, he 
would only expose himself to the same fate. 

Affain: the convention describes the treatment to which the 
white loyal men are exposed. The massacre in New Orleans was 
as follows: “On the 30th of July, 1866, in pursuance of a proc¬ 
lamation of Rufus N. Howell, one of the judges of the Supreme 
Court of Louisiana, the convention of loyal men, which, under the 
protection of the United-States troops, met, and framed the or¬ 
ganic law under which the civil government of Louisiana was 
formed, and which adjourned subject to the call of the president, 
was again convened. The rebel press denounced the convention 
in the most abusive language, and resorted to every expedient 
to inflame the minds of the returned rebel soldiers against the 
convention and its adherents. Public meetings were held, and 
incendiary speeches made. The mayor of the city declared his 
intention to disperse the convention if it should attempt to meet 
within the limits of New Orleans. 

“ At twelve o’clock of the night before the meeting of the con¬ 
vention, the police were assembled at the station-houses, and each 
one was armed with a large navy revolver. The convention met 
at twelve o’clock, at noon, in the Convention Hall, at the corner 
of Dryades and Canal Streets. A large number of Union men 
were assembled — peaceful, unarmed citizens — in front of the- 
building. At one o’clock, at a signal of the ringing of the bells, 
the police, joined by hundreds of armed rebel soldiers in citizens’ 
dress, attacked, without the slightest provocation, the people in 
front of the building. With unrelenting butchery, these men of 
bloody hands and hearts shot down the loyalists. The street was 
soon cleared. There were left but pools of blood, and the man- 
, gled bodies of the slain. 

They then made a dash into the hall of the convention. Paris, 
during the Reign of Terror, never witnessed a scene more dread- 
f«il. The members of the cc»nvention were unarmed, and utterly 


ANDREW JOHNSON. 


473 


defenceless. At the suggestion of their chaplain, the Rev. Mr. 
Horton, they quietly took their seats, and thus awaited the storm. 
Without any attempt at arrest, without encountering any act or 
word of provocation, these police-officers, with their Union-hating 
band of rebel soldiers, opened fire with their revolvers upon their 
helpless victims. Volley succeeded volley. No mercy was 
shown. White handkerchiefs were waved, as flags of truce, in 
vain. A deaf ear was turned to every plea. The work of butch¬ 
ery was continued, until every Union man in the room was either 
killed or wounded, excepting the very few who almost miracu¬ 
lously escaped. 



RIOT AT NEW ORLEANS. — SCENE IN MECHANICS’ HALL. 


While this scene was being enacted in the hall, bands of mur¬ 
derers were equally active in the streets, for several squares 
around the building. Every colored man and every known Union 
man was shot down. The bodies of the slain were mutilated in 
the most brutal way. In the report which the Southern Union 
men make of this almost unparalleled outrage, they say, — 

All the circumstances connected with this tragic event, — the 
60 




















































474 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


expressed intention of the mayor to disperse the convention, the 
withdrawal of the police from their beats in the city, the arming 
of them with revolvers, the signal given at one o’clock, and the 
prompt arrival of all the police of the city, including six or seven 
hundred special policemen sworn in for the occasion, the presence 
of the mayor during the tumult, the deception practised by the 
lieutenant-governor to keep troops out of the city, — all clearly 
prove that the bloody tragedy was, as Gen. Sheridan states, a 
^ premeditated massacre.’ 

‘‘And from the brutal manner in which over four hundred 
Union men were killed or wounded, from the fact that not one 
single policeman or participant in the murderous affair has been 
arrested, from the fact that the same men whose hands are yet 
red with the blood of the patriot soldiers of the Hepublic, and 
crimsoned anew in that of the martyrs of the 30th of July, are 
still retained in office and power in that city, it is clear that there 
is no security for the lives, the liberty, or, the property, of lo 3 ’al 
citizens. 

“ It is a part of the history of this massacre, that indictments 
were found by the grand jury of the parish, composed of ex-rebel 
soldiers and their sympathizers, against the survivors of the con- 
^vention, for having disturbed the peace of the community; and 
that, to-day, many of them are under heavy bonds to appear, and 
answer the charge. , Nor did this seem to satisfy the judge of the 
criminal court: for the grand jury was brought before him on the 
following day, and instructed to find bills of indictment against 
the members of the convention and spectators, charging them with 
murder, giving the principle in law, and applying it in this case, 
that whosoever is engaged in an unlawful proceeding, from which 
death ensues to a human being, is guilty of murder; and alleging, 
that as the convention had no right to meet, and the police had 
killed many men on the day of its meeting, the survivors were 
therefore guilty of murder. 

“ But why continue,” these Southern loyalists add, ‘‘ the recital 
of this horrible record? We have before us evidences from 
every portion of the South, proving the extent and the increasing 
violence of the spirit of intolerance and persecution above set 
forth. This committee is in possession of information that Union 
men dare not attend this convention, for fear of violence upon 
their return. Gentlemen of this convention have, since their ar- 


ANDREW JOHNSON. 


475 


rival in this city, received notices warning them not to return 
home. We have omitted the relation of acts of ferocity and 
barbarism too horrible to relate. We submit to. the impartial 
judgment of the American people, if these State governments, 
thus ruled by a disunion oligarchy, and based on the political dis¬ 
franchisement of three millions of colored citizens, and the social 
disfranchisement of the entire loyal white citizens, are republican 
in form. Of doubtful legal existence, they are undoubtedly 
despotic, and despotic in the interests of treason, as we of the 
South know but too well. 

We affirm that the loyalists of the South look to Congress, 
with affectionate gratitude and confidence, as the only means to 
save us from persecution, exile, and death itself. And we also 
declare that there can be no security for us and our children, 
there can be no safety for the country, against the fell spirit of 
slavery, now organized in the form of serfdom, unless the Govern¬ 
ment, by national and appropriate legislation, enforced by national 
authority, shall confer on every citizen in the States we represent 
the American birthright of impartial suffrage^ and equality before 
the law. 

“ This is the one all-sufficient remedy. This is our great need 
and pressing necessity. This is the only policy which will destroy 
sectionalism, by bringing into effective power a preponderating 
force on the side of loyalty. It will lead to an. enduring pacificar 
tion, because based on the eternal principles of justice. It is a 
policy which finally will regenerate the* South itself, because it 
will introduce and establish there a divine principle of moral poli¬ 
tics, which, under God’s blessing, will, in elevating humanity, 
absorb and purify the unchristian hate and selfish passions of 
men.” 

According to the Constitution, if two-thirds of the members of 
each house of Congress agree upon any amendments, those amend¬ 
ments shall be submitted to the approval of the several States. If 
three-fourths of these accept them, they become a part of the 
Constitution. The views of a large majority in both houses of 
Congress were not in harmony with those of the President. Con¬ 
gress took the ground, that, before the rebellious States should be 
allowed to assume their former privileges in the councils of the 
nation, certain guaranties should be exacted of them as a protec¬ 
tion for the Union men of the South, and to protect the nation 
from the repetition of so terrible a wrong. 


476 


LIVES OF TUE PRESIDENTS. 


With this vievv, they presented to the States Terms of Recon- 
structioUj to be adopted as constitutional amendments. Whatever 
may be thought of the policy or the impolicy of these terms, their 
wonderful leniency no man can deny. The Rebellion was a terri¬ 
ble fact, as terrible as earth has ever known. It cost thousands 
of millions of money, and hundreds of thousands of lives, and an 
amount of miser}^, of life-long destitution and woe, which never 
can be gauged. A greater crime was never perpetrated. Its 
responsibility lies somewhere. 

If we regard it as merely a combination of individual citizens^ 
then these insurgents merit severe punishment on the charge of 
treason and rebellion. If we regard it as an international war 
between the United-States Government and independent Confed¬ 
erate States, then is the victorious Government entitled to the 
rights of a conqueror as defined by the laws of war. Prussia an¬ 
nihilates the governments of the provinces and the kingdoms she 
has conquered, and compels them to pay the expenses of the war; 
and not a cabinet in Europe utters a word of remonstrance. 

With magnanimity never before in the history of the world man¬ 
ifested towards a vanquished enemy, the National Government 
calls for no punishment in the dungeon or on the scaffold, for no 
conscription or exile, for no political or personal servitude de¬ 
priving States or individuals of any of their rights: it simply 
requires a few easy terms as a slight security against another war. 

These terms are as follows: — 

Resolved by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States of America in Con¬ 
gress assembled (two thirds of both houses concurring'), That the following article be proposed 
to the legislatures of the several States as an amendment to the Constitution of the United 
States; which, when ratified by three-fourths of said legislatures, shall be valid as part of the 
Constitution; namely: — 

AUT. 1, Sect. 1. — All persons born or naturalized in the United Statesj and subject to the 
jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and the States wherein they reside. Xo 
State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens 
of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person ©f life, liberty, or happiness, with¬ 
out due process of law, nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the 
laws. 

Sect. 2. — Eepresentatives shall be apportioned among the several States according to their 
respective numbers, counting the whole number of persons, excluding Indians not taxed. But 
whenever the right to vote at any election for the choice of electors for President and Vice- 
President, representatives in Congress, executive and judicial officers, or members of the legis¬ 
lature thereof, is denied to any of the male inhabitants of such State, being twenty-one years of 
age, and citizens of the United States, or in any way abridged, except for participation in re¬ 
bellion or other crime, the basis of representation therein shall be reduced in the proportion 
which the number of such male citizens shall bear to the whole number of male citizens twenty- 
one years of age in such State. 

Sect, 3. — That no person shall be a senator or representative in Congress, or elector of Pres¬ 
ident and Vice-President or hold any office, civil or military, under the United States, or under 
any State, who, having previously taken an oath as a member of Congress, or as an officer of the 
United States, or as a member of any State legislature, or as an executive or judicial officer of 


ANDREW JOHNSON. 


47'i 


any State, to support the Constitution of the United States, shall have engaged in insurrection 
or rebellion against the same, or given aid and comfort to the enemies thereof. But Congress 
may, by a vote of two-thirds of each house, remove such disabilities. 

Sect. 4. —The validiry of tlie public debt of the United States authorized by law, including 
debts incurred for payment of pensions and bounties for services in suppressing insurrection or 
rebellion, shall not be questioned. But neitlier the United States nor any State shall assume or 
pay any debt or obligation incurred in aid of insurrection or rebellion against the United States, 
or any claim for the loss or emancipation of any slave; but all such debts, obligations, and 
claims, shall be held illegal and void. 

Sect. 6. — The Congress shall have power to enforce by appropriate legislation the provisions 
of this article. 

This amendment allows each State to decide who of its citizens 
shall enjoy the right to vote; but it declares that those who are 
not allowed to vote shall not be counted in the basis of repre¬ 
sentation. If any State chooses to limit the elective franchise to 
a favored few, it can do so; but that privileged few are not to 
have their power augmented by representing large bodies of cit 
izens who are permitted no voice in the selection of their repre¬ 
sentation. But for this provision, a rebel voter in South Carolina 
would represent a power in national affairs equal to any two loyal 
voters in New York. With slavery re-instituted under the guise 
of serfdom, and with their representation in Congress greatly in¬ 
creased, by counting in their basis of representation each serf as a 
man, the rebel States would have gained by the conflict in politi¬ 
cal power. ' 

President Johnson opposed these terms of reconstruction. Con¬ 
gress advocated them. They were cordially approved by an 
immense majority of the people of the United States. A conflict 
arose between the President and Congress, which agitated the 
nation as it has, perhaps, never been agitated before in time of 
peace. The President availed himself not only of all his constitu¬ 
tional powers, but, as Congress averred, he usurped unconstitu¬ 
tional powers, in his endeavors to thwart the measures which the 
nation, through its representatives, was endeavoring to enforce. 
In the progress of this strife, a law was passed by Congress, on the 
2d of March, 18G7, entitled The Tenure of Office Act; by which 
it was enacted that all civil officers duly qualified by appointment 
by the President, with the advice and consent of the Senate, 
shall be entitled to hold such office until a successor shall have 
been in like manner appointed and qualified. 

The President, who was anxious to remove Mr. Stanton from 
the office of Secretary of War, and place some one in his position 
who would act in harmony with his.own views, refused to respect 
this law, declaring it to be unconstitutional. He assumed that ho 


478 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


had a right to judge for himself whether or not the laws enacted 
by Congress were in accordance with the Constitution; and that 
if, in his judgment, they were not so, he had a right to refuse to 
execute them. The distinctly-defined issue which consequently 
arose was, may the President annul such laws of the United States^ 
as, in his judgment, he may deem to he unconstitutional ? 

The President had a right to veto a bill, which, for any reason, 
he disapproved ; but a bill thus returned could pass to a law by 
a two-thirds vote, notwithstanding the veto. And again: should 
the President refuse to return a bill, and retain it for ten days, it 
then became a law without his signature. It was admitted that 
the President was not bound to execute an unconstitutional law. 
But the question of its constitutionality was to be decided, not by 
the private judgment of the President, but by the solemn decision 
of the Supreme Court of the United States. 

The President, in contravention of the Tenure of Office Act, 
issued an order removing Sec. Stanton from his office, to which 
he had been appointed by President Lincoln, and substituting in 
his place Gen. Lorenzo Thomas. Sec. Stanton, acting in harmony 
with the advice of Congress, refused to surrender the post which 
it was endeavored thus illegally to wrest from him. The Presi¬ 
dent, by threats, endeavored to force him to yield. This brought 
matters to such a crisis, that the impeachment of the President 
was decided upon. When the President urged the plea, that he 
violated the law that he might thus bring it before the Supreme 
Court to test its constitutionality, the reply was, that the Presi¬ 
dent had taken an oath to execute the laws; that he could violate 
this oath only at his peril, and that peril was, to he impeached. 

The nation, in general, was in sympathy with Congress. The 
course which the President had pursued had created intense and 
wide-spread exasperation. Those who were in sympathy with the 
Rebellion applauded him. The loyal community all over the land 
was incensed. In addition to those articles of impeachment 
which accused the President of high crimes and misdemeanors in 
violating the laws, another article was introduced, charging him 
with attempting to bring into ridicule and contempt the Congress 
of the United States, and to excite against it the odium of the 
people. In substantiation of this charge, the following extracts 
were produced from speeches \vhich he had made on several oc¬ 
casions. To a committee of citizens who called upon him in 


ANDREW JOHNSON. 


479 


Washington, on the 18th of August, 1866, he said, in view of the 
opposition of Congress to his mode of reconstructing the rebel 
States, — 

^‘We have witnessed in one department of the Government 
every endeavor to prevent the restoration of peace, harmony, and 
union. We have seen hanging upon the verge of the Govern¬ 
ment, as it were, a body called, or which assumes to be, the Con¬ 
gress of the United States; while, in fact, it is a Congress of only 
part of the States. We have seen this Congress pretend to be 
for the Union, when its every step and act tended to perpetuate 
disunion, and make a disruption of the States inevitable. We have 
seen Congress gradually encroach, step by step, upon constitu¬ 
tional rights, and violate, day after day, and month after month, 
fundamental principles of the Government. We have seen a 
Congress that seemed to forget that there was a limit to the sphere 
and scope of legislation. We have seen a Congress in a minority 
assume to exercise power, which, if allowed to be consummated, 
would result in despotism, in monarchy itself” • 

Again: at Cleveland, 0., on the 3d of September, 1866, Presi¬ 
dent Johnson, addressing a public assemblage, said,— 

‘‘ I called upon your Congress, that is trying to break up the 
Government. What has Congress done ? Have they done any 
thing to restore the Union of these States ? No: on the con¬ 
trary, they have done every thing to prevent it.” Again: at St. 
Louis, Mo., on the 8th of September, the President, addressing a 
large gathering of the citizens, said, calling several prominent 
individual members of Congress by name,— 

“ These are the men that compare themselves with the Saviour; 
and everybody that differs with them in opinion, and who tries to 
stay and arrest their diabolical and nefarious policy, is to be de¬ 
nounced as a Judas. Well, let me say to you, if you will stand by 
me in trying to give the people a fair chance, soldiers and citizens, 
to participate in these offices, God being willing, I will kick them 
out: I will kick them out just as fast as I can. Let me say to you, 
in conclusion, that what I have said I intended to say. I was not 
provoked into this ; and I care not for their menaces, the taunts 
and the jeers. I care not for threats. I do not intend to be 
bullied by my enemies, nor overawed by my friends; but, God 
willing, with your help, I will veto their measures whenever they 
come to me.” 


480 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


On the 4th of March, at 1 o'clock, p.m., the managers of the im¬ 
peachment, appointed by the House of Representatives, entered 
the Senate Chamber, followed by the members of the House. The 
Chief Justice of the United States, and the senators, fifty-three in 
number, formed the court and jury. The people of the United 
States, through their representatives in the House, entered the 
prosecution. The President of the United States was the accused 
at the bar. 

The trial was very tedious, continuing for nearly three months. 
A test-article of the impeachment was at length submitted to the 
court for its action. It was certain that as the court voted upon 
that article so it would vote upon all. Thirty-four voices pro¬ 
nounced the President guilty. Nineteen voices declared him not 
guilty. As a two-thirds vote was necessary to his condemnation, 
he was pronounced acquitted, notwithstanding the very great 
majority against him. The change of one vote from the not guilty 
side would have sustained the impeachment. 

The President, for the remainder of his term, was but little 
regarded. He continued, though impoiently, his conflict with 
Congress. His own party did not think it expedient to renomi¬ 
nate him for the Presidency. The nation rallied, with enthusiasm 
unparalleled since the daj^s of Washington, around the name 
of Gen. Grant. Andrew Johnson was forgotten. The bullet of 
an assassin introduced him to the President's chair. Notwith¬ 
standing this, never was there presented to a man a better oppor¬ 
tunity to immortalize his name, and to win the gratitude of a nation. 
He failed utterly. Apparently there were none to regret his 
retirement from an office which it is certainly the voice of the 
nation that he did not honor. 


CHAPTER XVIIL 


ULYSSES S. GRANT. 


Birth and Childhood. — Education at West Point. — Life on the Frontiers. — The Mexican 
War. — Resigns his Commission. — The Civil War. — Returns to the Army. — Battle of 
Belmont. — Capture of Fort Donelson. — Battles of Shiloh and Pittsburg Landing. — Siege 
of Vicksburg. Campaign of Chattanooga. — Public Honors. — Commissioned as Lieu¬ 
tenant-General. — Campaign of the Wilderness. — Capture of Lee’s Army.—Chosen 
President of the United States. 


There was nothing in the early life of Ulysses S. Grant indica¬ 
tive of a remarkable character. He was an honest-hearted, ener- 



RESIDENCE OF GEN. U. S. GRANT AT GALENA, ILL. 


getic, modest, good boy. But for the Great Rebellion, his name, 
probably, would never have been known beyond the limits of the 
small Western town in which he was then engaged in humble com¬ 
mercial life. The war developed in him latent virtues and heroism 
which have crowned him with renown. 

Ulysses was born on the 29th of April, 1822, of Christian 
parents, in a humble home, at Point Pleasant, on the banks of the 
Ohio. Soon after his birth, his father removed to Georgetown, 
Brown County, Ohio. In this remote frontier hamlet, Ulysses 
received a common-school education. At the age of seventeen, in 

61 481 


















482 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


the year 1839, he entered the Military Academy at West Point. 
Here he was regarded as a solid, sensible young man of fair abili¬ 
ties, and df sturdy, honest character. He took respectable rank as 
a scholar. In June, 1843, he graduated, about the middle in his 
class, and was sent as lieutenant of infantry to one of the distant 
"military posts iu the Missouri Territory. Two years he passed in 
these dreary solitudes, watching the vagabond and exasperated 
Indians. 

The war with Mexico came: Lieut. Grant was sent with his 
regiment to Corpus Christi. His first battle was at Palo Alto. 
There was no chance here for the exhibition of either skill or 
heroism.* The two parties stood upon avast open prairie, with 
about half a mile of ground between them. For several hours, 
they fired at each other with cannon. Our guns were the heavier 
and better managed. As night came, the Mexicans retreated. 
They had lost, in killed and wounded, two hundred and sixty-two. 
The Americans lost four killed, and thirty-two wounded. 

The foe made another stand, a few miles in the rear, at Resaca 
de la Palma. Here, in the midst of thickets of dwarf oaks, the 
battle was fiercer. The Mexicans, having lost a thousand men, 
retired. Gen. Taylor, who was in command of the United-States 
forces, lost one hundred and fifty. This was Lieut. Grant’s second 
battle. 

The American troops, about six thousand strong, then crossed 
the Rio Grande, and marched upon Monterey, which was garri¬ 
soned by ten thousand Mexicans. After a bloody struggle of 
several days, the city capitulated on the 24th of September, 1846. 
This was Lieut. Grant’s third battle. It is said that he here per¬ 
formed a signal service of daring and of skilful horsemanship. 
His brigade had exhausted its ammunition. A messenger must 
be sent for more, along a route exposed to the bullets of the foe. 
Lieut. Grant, adopting an expedient learned of the Indians, 
grasped the mane of his horse, and, hanging upon one side of the 
animal, ran the gantlet in safety. 

From Monterey, Lieut. Grant was sent, with the Fourth Infan¬ 
try, to aid Gen. Scott in the siege of Vera Cruz. Though in 
the capture of this important place he proved himself an effi¬ 
cient officer, still his rank was too humble to attract any special 
attention. In preparation for the march to the city of Mexico, he 
w^as appointed quartermaster of his regiment. At the battle of 


ULYSSES S. GRANT. 


483 


Molino del Rey, he was promoted to a first lieutenancy, and was 
brevetted captain at Chapultepec. 

At the close of the Mexican War, Capt. Grant returned with 
his regiment to New York, and was again sent to one of the mili¬ 
tary posts on the frontier. The discovery of gold in California 
causing an immense tide of emigration to flow to the Pacific 
shores, Capt. Grant was sent with a battalion to Fort Dallas, in 
Oregon, for the protection of the interests of the emigrants. Life 
was wearisome in those wilds. Capt. Grant resigned his com¬ 
mission, and returned to the States, and, having married, entered 
upon the cultivation of a small farm near St. Louis, Mo. He had 
.but little skill as a farmer. Finding his toil not remunerative, 
he turned to mercantile life, entering into the leather business, 
with a younger brother, at Galena, Ill. This was in the year 
1S60. The integrity of the brothers, and their devotion to busi¬ 
ness, gave the firm a high reputation. 

On the 12th of April, 1861, the rebels in Charleston, S.C., com¬ 
menced war against the flag of the United States, by opening fire 
upon Fort Sumter. As the tidings reached the ears of Capt. 
Grant in his counting-room, he said, — 

Uncle Sam has educated me for the army; though I have 
served him through one war, I do not feel that I have yet repaid 
the debt. I am still ready to discharge my obligations. I shall 
therefore buckle on my sword, and see Uncle Sam through this 
war too.” 

He went into the streets, raised a company of volunteers, and 
led them as their captain to Springfield, the capital of the State, 
where their services were offered to Gov. Yates. The govern¬ 
or, impressed by the zeal and straightforward executive ability 
of Capt. Grant, gave him a desk in his office to assist in the 
volunteer organization which was then being formed in the State 
in behalf of the Government. It was soon evident that his mili¬ 
tary qualities were of so high an order as to demand for him active 
service in the field.. This also was his earnest wish. On the 15th 
of June, 1861, Capt. Grant received a commission as colonel of 
the Twenty-first Regiment of Illinois Volunteers. This regiment 
was soon sent across the Mississippi to guard the Hannibal and 
Hudson Railroad, which ran across the northern portion of Mis¬ 
souri to the Kansas border. There was here no opportunity for 
distinction. Still, his merits as a West-Point graduate, who had 


484 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


served for fifteen years in the regular army, were such, that he 
was soon promoted to the rank of brigadier-general; and was 
placed in command at Cairo, where the Ohio and Mississippi 
Rivers meet. 

The rebels raised their banner at Paducah, near the mouth of 
the Tennessee River. Scarcely had its folds appeared in the 
breeze, ere Gen. Grant was there. The rebels fled. Their ban¬ 
ner fell, and the stars and stripes were unfurled in their stead. 
Garrisoning the post, he advanced to Smithland, at the mouth of 
the Cumberland, which point he also occupied. Subsequent 
events proved the sagacity which induced him to rear his bab 
teries upon the mouths of these two important streams. 

The rebels assembled an armed force on the Kentucky side of 
tlie Mississippi, at Columbus, a few miles below Cairo. Here, 
on a bluff, they fortified themselves with ramparts and batteries. 
Their heavy guns commanded the river. Twenty thousand men 
garrisoned the works. On the opposite Missouri shore, they 
were organizing a force at Belmont, to invade south-western Mis¬ 
souri. Gen. Grant had not sufficient strength to attack Columbus : 
he resolved, however, to attempt the destruction of the camp at 
Belmont. He knew he could not permanently hold the position, 
as it was covered by the guns of Columbus. 

Early in the evening of the 6th of November, Gen. Grant in 
person, with about three thousand men on transports, convoyed 
by two gunboats, commenced ^he descent of the river. A dark 
and foggy night favored the enterprise. Early in the morning, the 
troops landed, unopposed, on the west bank of the river, three 
miles above the batteries of the foe; marched rapidly through the 
forest, and threw themselves with the utmost impetuosity upon 
the earthworks at Belmont, which were guarded by nearly twice 
their own number of men. The rebels were taken by surprise. 
Bewildered by the desperation of the assault, after a short conflict, 
they broke, and fled in utter rout. The torch was applied to 
every thing that would burn. The stars and stripes were raised 
over the conquered field; and a shout rose from the lips of the 
victors, which reached the ears of the garrison at Columbus. 
Their guns were immediately brought to bear upon the audacious 
assailants, and re-enforcements were hurriedly pushed across the 
river to prevent their retreat. As Gen. Grant commenced the 
withdrawal of his troops, an aide rode up, exclaiming excitedly, 

We are surrounded I ” 




1 



m 



















ULYSSES S. GRANT. 


485 


“Very well/^ said Gen. Grant, “ we must cut our way out as we 
cut our way in. We Lave whipped them once, and 1 think we 
can do it again.’’ 

They did cut their way out, through thirteen regiments of in¬ 
fantry and three squadrons of cavalry. They regained their boats, 
and returned rejoicing to Cairo. They had destroyed much rebel 
• materiel of war, had captured one hundred and fifty prisoners and 
two guns. Four guns which could not be removed were spiked. 
The rebels lost, in killed and wounded, six hundred and forty-two 
men. Gen. Grant’s loss in the bold enterprise was also severe ; 
four hundred and eighty-five being numbered among the killed, 
wounded, and missing. 

The rebels constructed two forts; one upon the Tennessee River, 
and the other upon the Cumberland River, about ninety miles 
above the mouths of these streams, at a point where these rivers 
approach within twelve miles of each other. Fort Henry, on the 
eastern bank of the Tennessee, was garrisoned by twenty-eight 
hundred men, with seventeen heavy guns. It was a strong field¬ 
work with bastioned front, supported on the land side by an 
intrenched camp with an extended line of rifle-pits. An expedition 
was sent up the river to capture this fort. It consisted of a fleet 
of seven gunboats, four of which were iron clad, under Com. 
Foote; and a land force of seventeen thousand men, under Gen. 
Grant, which was conveyed in transports. This whole expe¬ 
dition steamed up the river early in February, 1862, and landed 
the troops about four miles below the fort. Many of the troops 
disembarked at midnight in a drenching rain. They were to be 
sent circuitously through the forest to attack the fort in the rear, 
and to cut off the retreat of the garrison by what was called the 
Dover Road to Fort Donelson on the Cumberland. 

Gen. Grant had a march of eight miles before him, through a 
wilderness which the rains had converted into a morass, and 
where he encountered several unbridged streams. The heroic 
commodore said to Gen. Grant, as he commenced his march, “ You 
must move quickly, or I shall take the fort before you get there.” 
The gallant little fleet opened fire at a mile and a quarter from the 
fort, and pressed steadily on till within six hundred feet of the 
muzzles of the foe. The fire of the gunboats was so terrible, that 
soon every gun but four was silenced, and the rebels raised the 
white flag of surrender. Nearly all the garrison fled to Donelson, 


486 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


without its being in the power of Gen. Grant to molest them. 
Gen. Tilghman, commander of the fort, and sixty-three men, were 
captured. The fall of Fort Henry opened to our gunboats the 
great avenue of the Tennessee into the heart of the rebel territory. 

Early on the morning of the 12th, Gen. Grant, with his main 
column, fifteen thousand strong, commenced his march across the 
country to Fort Honelson. Com. Foote descended the Tennessee 
to repair his gunboats, that he might ascend the Cumberland, 
and attack Honelson on its water side. Honelson was a cluster 
of forts upon a rugged, rocky eminence, which commanded the 
river for several miles above and below. A better situation for 
defence could scarcely be imagined. Numerous batteries, pro¬ 
tected by works which no ball could penetrate, threw thirty-two 
and sixty-four pound shot. Ramparts, bastions, rifle-pits, and 
abatis of felled trees, protected every approach. Twenty thou¬ 
sand soldiers manned the works, commanded by three prominent 
rebel generals, — Buckner, Pillow, and Floyd. The struggle was 
long, desperate, and bloody, marked by heroism, endurance, and 
suffering seldom surpassed in the annals of war. In every san¬ 
guinary conflict of the three-days’ battle, Gen. Grant gained some 
important position. Com. Foote co-operated gallantly with his 
fleet. Every thing gained was held. 

The attack really commenced on the 12th of November, when 
the rebel pickets were driven in by Gen. Grant’s advance. On 
the 16th, the fort was surrendered. As Gen. Grant was preparing 
to storm the intrenchments with twenty-seven thousand men, two 
of the rebel generals, with as many of their troops as could escape 
by steamers, abandoned the fort and ascended the river. Gen. 
Buckner sent a bugler to Gen. Grant, with a note asking terms. 

No terms can be accepted,” Avas the reply, but unconditional 
surrender. I propose to move immediately upon your Avorks.” 
There Avas no choice left to Buckner. Sixty-five guns, seventeen 
thousand six hundred small-arms, with an immense amount of mili¬ 
tary stores, fell into the hands of the victors. 

The Union loss was about two thousand in killed, wounded, 
and missing. Gen. Grant had introduced a new era of hard fight¬ 
ing into the conflict. The nation was electrified by the victory. 
Sec. Stanton recommended the successful general as Major-Gen¬ 
eral of Volunteers. President Lincoln nominated him to the 
Senate the same day. The Senate at once confirmed the nomina- 


ULYSSES S. GRANT. 


487 


tion. By the fall of Donelson, which was the first really impor¬ 
tant success the Union arms had achieved, Gen. Grant was lifted 
up into national reputation. The new military district of Tennes¬ 
see was now assigned to him. 

Like all able captains, Gen. Grant knew well how to secure the 
results of victory. Within a week after the fall of Donelson, he 
sent Gen. C. F. Smith fifty miles farther up the river, with four 
regiments, to take possession of Clarkesville. He also took military 
possession of Nashville, a beautiful city of fifteen thousand inhabit¬ 
ants on the same stream, about one hundred and twenty miles 
from its mouth. Having thus taken command of the Cumberland, 
he removed his headquarters to Fort Henry, that he might also 
control the Tennessee River. 

The enemy was concentrating a large force at Corinth, just 
south of the Tennessee line, in the State of Mississippi, preparing 
to invade Ohio. It was deemed important to break up this 
rendezvous, and, if possible, to destroy this army. Gen. Grant, 
with five divisions in fifty-seven transports, convoyed by gun¬ 
boats, ascended the Tennessee River to Pittsburg Landing. The 
troops were disembarked on the west side of the stream, twenty 
miles from Corinth. Here they waited the arrival of Gen. Buell, 
who, with forty thousand troops, was marching from Nashville to 
join them. The rebels had seventy thousand men at Corinth. 
Gen. Grant had thirty-five thousand on the west bank of the Ten¬ 
nessee. Gen. Johnston, in command of the rebel troops, resolved 
to advance with his whole force, and crush Grant’s little band 
before Buell could arrive. 

At five o’clock on the morning of the 6th of April, 1862, the 
whole rebel army, in three columns, by a secret march from their 
intrenchments, fell upon our slumbering troops. An awful day of 
carnage ensued, — a day disastrous to the Union arms. Though 
our troops fought with desperation, they were driven back nearly 
three miles with fearful slaughter. Several thousand prisoners 
were taken by the foe. The field was covered with the dying and 
the dead. Apparently, the gunboats alone prevented our routed 
army from being captured, or driven into the river. Night termi¬ 
nated the conflict. The triumphant rebels had no doubt of an 
easy and entire victory on the morrow. This first day’s battle is 
called the battle of Shiloh, from a church a few miles back from 
the landing where the battle commenced. 


488 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


Never was the energy of Gen. Grant more signally displayed 
than in these hours of disaster. No thought of ultimate defeat 
seemed to enter his mind. During the night, he re-organized his 
shattered divisions, and formed a new line of battle. Twenty 
thousand of Gen. Buell’s troops, who arrived after dark, were 
ferried across the stream, and placed in battle-array. Relying 
upon Gen. Buell’s remaining troops, fast approaching, for a 
reserve, every available man was prepared for immediate action. 
With the earliest dawn, the national troops advanced from the 
right, the centre, and the left, in an impetuous assault upon the 
astonished foe. Inspired with the confidence of victory, they 
swept all opposition before them. During the long hours of the 
day, the conflict raged with uninterrupted fury. Considering the 
numbers engaged, it was one of the bloodiest battles ever fought. 
A dark and stormy night closed the scene. In utter discomfiture, 
the rebels retreated to their intrenchments at Corinth ; having lost 
in the two-days’ campaign nearly twenty thousand men. Gen. 
Grant lost on these fields of blood over twelve thousand men. 
No imagination can picture the scene which that plain presented 
after these two storms of war had swept over it. The battle of 
Shiloh was a signal defeat; the battle of Pittsburg Landing, as the 
second day’s battle was called, was a still more signal victory. 

Gen. Halleck now took command of the troops, and advanced 
to the siege of Corinth. After the inglorious terminaiion of this 
siege, by the abandonment of the posts by the rebels, and their 
escape with all their materiel of war^ Gen. Halleck was recalled 
to Washington, and Gen. Grant again assumed command of the 
army of the Tennessee. Establishing his headquarters at Corinth, 
he found all his courage and military ability put to the test in 
warding off the blows of the outnumbering foe who surrounded 
him. He, however, proved equal to the task. We have not here 
space to recount the local conflicts which ensued. In the bloody 
battles of luka and Corinth, the foe was so thoroughly discomfited 
as to relieve West Tennessee from all immediate danger. 

In the latter part of October, large re-enforcements were sent to 
Gen. Grant. Anxious to assume the offensive, he suggested to 
Gen. Halleck that an attack shoidd be made upon Vicksburg, 
where the enemy, garrisoned in great strength, commanded the 
Mississippi River. It was decided to attack the works on the land 
side by fifty thousand troops; while Com. Porter, with a. fleet of 


ULYSSES S. GRANT. 


489 


sixty vessels, carrying two liunBred and eighty guns and eight 
hundred men, should attack from the river. 

The siege which ensued is one of the most memorable in the 
annals of war. A volume would be required to give the details 
of its varied and wondrous undertakings. All the energies of en¬ 
gineering and of battle were called into requisition. The siege 
of Vicksburg, in reality, spread over countless leagues of ter¬ 
ritory. For days, weeks, months, there were almost incessant 
battles. The enterprise may be considered as commencing early 
in February, 1863. In the progress of the siege, a mine was dug 
under one of the most important batteries of the enemy, and 
charged with over two thousand pounds of powder. The explo¬ 
sion of this mine was to be the signal for a simultaneous attack 
by land and water. 

It was the 25th of June, 1863, a delightful summer's day. The 
match was applied at three o'clock in the afternoon. The whole 
army, drawn up for an immediate assault, seemed to hold its breath 
in suspense, awaiting the terrible explosion. A white line of 
smoke ran along the trench through which the fuse was laid, and 
the fire crept rapidly towards the buried magazine. Then came 
an awful underground thundering, as of earthquake throes, a fiash, 
and the upheaving of a mountain into the air. Earth, rocks, 
timber, guns, and the mangled forms of men, were blended to¬ 
gether in that awful volcanic eruption which darkened the skies. 
Instantly, over a line of twelve miles in length, the tempest of 
battle immediately burst with the intensest fury. An eye¬ 
witness writes,— 

The scene at this time was one of the utmost sublimity. The 
roar of artillery, the rattle of small-arms, the cheers of the men, 
the flashes of light, the wreaths of pale blue smoke over differ¬ 
ent parts of the field, the bursting of shells, the fierce whistle of 
solid shot, the deep boom of the mortars, the broadsides of the 
ships of war, and, added to all this, the vigorous replies of the 
enemy, sent up a din which beggars all description." 

The defence of Vicksburg was as determined as the assault. 
When some one asked Gen. Grant if he thought he could take the 
place, he replied, “ Certainly. I cannot tell exactly when I shall 
take the town; but I mean to stay here till I do, if it takes me 
thirty years." 

On the 1st of July, his works were at ten different points, within 
62 


490 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS, 


a few hundred feet of the rebel defences. The final assault was to 
take place on the 4th. The rebel general, Pemberton, aware that 
he could not repel the charge, on the 3d proposed terms of capitula¬ 
tion. Gen. Grant replied, that his only terms were the uncondi¬ 
tional surrender of the city and garrison. Gen. Pemberton, hoping 
to obtain more favorable terms, urged a personal interview. The 



INTEKVIEW BETWEEN GRANT AND PEMBERTON. 


two generals met, each accompanied by several officers of his 
staff, upon a gentle eminence, beneath an oak-tree, not two hun¬ 
dred feet from the rebel lines. Both armies gazed with interest 
upon the spectacle. Courteously these leaders of hostile ranks 
shook hands. Gen. Grant adhered to his terms of unconditional 











ULYSSES S. GRANT. 


491 


surrender, the officers and soldiers all to be liberated upon their 
parole. Gen. Pemberton, conscious that further resistance was 
hopeless, after conferring with his officers, accepted the terms pro¬ 
posed. At ten o’clock on the 4th of July, 1863, white flags arose 
all along the rebel lines, announcing the surrender of the place. 
Gen. Grant, with his staff, rode at the head of his troops, as they 
entered the city, and took possession of all the works. A more 
signal conquest has seldom been made. Thirty thousand six hun¬ 
dred prisoners were taken, and one hundred and seventy-two can¬ 
non. 

The fall of Vicksburg was by far the most terrible blow which 
the rebels had thus far encountered. It rendered it necessary for 
them immediately to evacuate Port Hudson ; and thus the Missis¬ 
sippi wasithrown open to our gunboats from Cairo to the Gulf. 

Gen. Grant was anxious to move immediately upon Mobile. 
With the force at his command, he could then have easily taken 
the place; but he received orders from Washington to co-operate 
with Gen. Banks in a movement upon Texas. He, accordingly, on 
the 30th of August, left Vicksburg for New Orleans. In that city, 
he was thrown from his horse, receiving injuries which seriously 
disabled him for several months. For twenty days, he could not 
leave his bed. For many weeks afterwards he could only hobble 
about upon crutches. 

Gen. Rosecrans was in East Tennessee, near Chattanooga. He 
had fifty-flve thousand men under his command. He was in great 
peril, far from his base of supplies, and menaced by a rebel force 
eighty thousand strong. One of the most terrible battles of the 
war was fought — the battle of Chickamauga — on the 19th of Sep¬ 
tember, 1863. The national troops, having lost sixteen thousand 
in killed, wounded, and missing, were driven back behind their in- 
trenchments at Chattanooga, where they were closely besieged by 
a rebel force of eighty thousand men. As their lines of commu¬ 
nication were cut off, they were threatened with total destruction. 
Gen. Grant was sent to their relief. Seldom before in the his¬ 
tory of the world has there been such an illustration of the power 
of a single man to control events. On the 19th of October, Gen. 
Grant telegraphed Gen. Thomas, to whose heroism the army 
was mainly indebted for its salvation in the terrible battle of Chick¬ 
amauga, “ Hold Chattanooga at all hazards. I will be there as 
soon as possible.” The characteristic response of Gen. Thomas 


492 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS, 


was, “ I will hold the town till we starve.” On the 23d of October, 
a cold, stormy day, Gen. Grant, chilled, drenched, exhausted, 
entered Chattanooga in the evening. The gloom of nature seemed 
in sympathy with the gloom of the army. The energy and the 
military sagacity immediately displayed by Gen. Grant has per¬ 
haps never been surpassed. 

First, by a wonderful series of strategic and tactical measures, 
he opened a sure line of communication, by which his army speed¬ 
ily received re-enforcements and abundant supplies. Five days 
accomplished this. The whole army was inspired with such new 
life as to double its moral strength. Gen. Sherman, with the 
Fifteenth Army Corps, was hurried along, by forced marches, from 
the Valley of the Mississippi. The rebels w'ere alarmed. ‘‘The 
enemy,” said their leading organ, “ The Richmond Enquirer,” 
“ were outfought at Chickamauga; but the present position of affairs 
looks as though we had been out-generalled at Chattanooga.” 

Gen. Sherman, w^ading through miry roads, bridging flooded 
streams, and often fighting his way, was painfully delayed, though 
he manifested heroism and energy wliich elicited the praises of his 
superior ofiicer and the admiration of the nation. Gen. Burnside 
was in imminent danger of being overwhelmed at Knoxville, — 
a calamity which would have fearfully imperilled the army at 
Chattanooga. Every energy of Gen. Grant’s soul and body was 
strained to the utmost. At length Gen. Sherman’s troops arrived, 
and were gathered in a concealed camp about two miles west of 
Chattanooga. Gen. Grant was now ready to assume the offensive. 
It would require a volume to give the reader any adequate idea 
of the multiplied evolutions in the terrible battles which ensued, 
extending over mountains and through forests and valleys for a 
distance of thirteen miles. At midnight on the 23d of November, 
Gen. Sherman’s troops crossed the Tennessee River, a few miles 
above Chattanooga, and took a commanding position to attack the 
enemy on his right, north of Missionary Ridge. The next day 
Gen. Hooker magnificently stormed Lookout Mountain, on the 
enemy’s extreme left, driving the rebels in wild rout before him. 
The next day, the 25th, the whole army rushed upon the foe, upon 
the right, upon the left and at the centre. The battle was ter¬ 
rific. Human valor never has done, never can do more. The 
main attack was at the centre, from Orchard Knoll, where Gen. 
Grant took his position. 


ULYSSES S. GRANT. 


493 


The scene cannot be described, cannot be imagined. At this 
point of the line, which extended for many miles, and which 
along its whole distance was ablaze with the lightnings of battle’s 
tempest, there were thirteen thousand men rushing headlong in 
the assault, with shouts which blended sublimely with the rat¬ 
tle of musketry and the roar of cannon. Eight thousand rebels 
opposed them, lighting desperately behind their intrenchments. 
There were sixty explosions of cannon ea 9 h minute. The assail¬ 
ants and the assailed were soon blended, upon the ramparts 
and in the trenches. It was a day of blood, anguish, death, to 
thousands. The Union loss, in killed and wounded, was four thou¬ 
sand. The rebel loss has never been known. When night came, 
the national banner waved over all the works which the rebels 
held in the morning; and the panic-stricken foe was retreating in 
torrents which no commands, entreaties, or threats of their officers 
could arrest. In the following modest telegram, Gen. Grant an¬ 
nounced to the authorities in Washington his glorious victory: — 

“Although the battle lasted from early dawn till dark this 
evening, I believe I am not premature in announcing a complete 
victory over Bragg. Lookout Mountain top, all the rifle-pits in 
Chattanooga Valley, and Missionary Ridge entire, have been 
carried, and are now held by us. I have no idea of finding Bragg 
here to-morrow.” 

This great achievement pierced the heart of the Rebellion, 
relieved Gen. Burnside, rescued Kentucky and Tennessee from 
rebel thraldom, and opened the gate for the triumphant sweep of 
the national army through Georgia to the Atlantic coast. Vigor¬ 
ously Gen. Grant pushed the routed foe, driving his broken bat¬ 
talions towards Atlanta. The roads along which they had fied 
were strewed with abandoned guns, muskets, broken wagons, and 
all the nameless debris of a routed, panic-stricken host. The 
rebels applied the torch to most of the stores which they could 
not take with them, and destroyed behind them all the bridges, 
and felled trees into the road to impede the progress of their 
pursuers. Still their flight had been so precipitate that they had 
been compelled to leave much behind. Our victorious troops 
gathered up a pontoon-train of fifteen boats; forty pieces of artil¬ 
lery, including two sixty-four-pounder rified cannon; sixty-nine 
carriages and caissons; seven thousand stand of small-arms; sixty 
thousand rations of corn, fifty thousand of meal, four hundred 


494 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


gallons of molasses, one thousand pounds of bacon; together with 
a considerable quantity of ordnance stores, artillery and small- 
arm ammunition, and six thousand one hundred and forty-two 
prisoners. 

In the flight and hot pursuit, the rear guard of the foe occasion¬ 
ally made a stand, and short, fierce conflicts ensued. Gen. Grant 
gave the fugitive rebels no rest until they were driven fairly out 
of Tennessee into Georgia. It must be the opinion of all familiar 
with military affairs, that Grant’s campaign of Chattanooga is one 
of the most memorable in history. He was ably supported by as 
noble a corps of generals as any commander ever drew around 
him. Still it was mainly to the skill of the commanding general, 
in his admirable disposition of his forces, that we were indebted for 
the result. Without this no human valor could have driven the 
foe from the almost impregnable post which he occupied. An 
Indian chieftain, of the Tonawanda tribe. Col. Parker, in the fol¬ 
lowing terms describes Gen. Grant’s conduct in the battle: — 

It has been a matter of universal wonder in this army that 
Gen. Grant was not killed ; for the general was always in the front, 
and perfectly regardless of the storm of hissing bullets and 
screaming shells flying around him. His apparent want of sensi¬ 
bility does not arise from heedlessness, heartlessness, or vain mili¬ 
tary afiectation, but from a sense of the responsibility resting upon 
him when in battle. 

“ At Ringgold we rode for half a mile, in the face of the enemy, 
under an incessant fire of cannon and musketry ; nor did we ride 
fast, but upon an ordinary trot; and not once, do I believe, did it 
enter the general’s mind that he was in danger. I was by his side, 
and watched him closely. In riding that distance, we were going 
to the front. I could see that he was studying the positions of 
the two armies, and, of course, planning how to defeat the enemy, 
who were making a desperate stand, and slaughtering our men 
fearfully.” 

Immediately upon the meeting of Congress after these events, 
a vote was passed, presenting the thanks of that body to Gen. 
Grant and the ofiicers and soldiers under his command. A gold 
medal was also ordered to be struck off, with suitable emblems, to 
be presented to Gen. Grant. Several of the States also passed 
resolutions of thanks to Grant and his army. 

The energetic general manifested no disposition to rest after the 


ULYSSES S. GRANT. 


495 


campaign of Chattanooga. He gathered up his strength to push 
the war with renewed vigor. It was now winter. An immense 
army was to be housed, clothed, fed. The rebel forces were to 
be destroyed wherever they could be found in rendezvous. 
Three armies were under his command, extending over a line a 
thousand miles in length. Herculean mental energies must be 
requisite to bear such a burden. Gen. Grant was responsible for 
all the movements or neglect of action. In a magnificent cam¬ 
paign, Gen. Sherman drove the rebels out of Tennessee, subsisting 
his army upon the stores which he captured. In midwinter, 
through storms and drifting snows which encumbered the moun¬ 
tain passes, Gen. Grant, on horseback, visited the outposts of his 
army. At Knoxville, Louisville, Lexington, St. Louis, he was re¬ 
ceived with the greatest enthusiasm. But no efforts could either 
flatter him or provoke him into making a speech. He was em¬ 
phatically a man of deeds, not of words. There was perhaps one 
exception. He did make a speech at St. Louis. He was sere¬ 
naded in the evening at his hotel. An immense throng in front of 
the hotel, in an incessant clamor, shouted ‘‘ Speech ! ” Speech ! ’’ 
After a long delay, the general appeared upon the balcony. There 
was breathless silence. Leaning over the railing, the general said 
slowly, deliberately, firmly, — 

Gentlemen, making speeches is not my business. I never 
did it in my life, and I never will. I thank you, however, for 
your attendance here.’’ 

He then bowed, and retired amidst immense applause. National 
honors were now lavished upon him. On the 4th of February, 
1864, Congress revived the grade of lieutenant-general, and the 
rank was conferred on Gen. Grant. On the 3d of March, he 
was summoned to Washington to receive his credentials, and to 
enter upon the immense responsibilities of his new office. His 
fame filled the land. On his rapid journey, at every dep3t crowds 
were gathered to catch a glimpse of one whose deeds outrivalled 
those of any other living general. A singular scene of enthusi¬ 
asm was witnessed upon his arrival in Washington. 

With characteristic modesty, arriving unheralded, he quietly 
repaired to Willard’s Hotel, and took a seat at the table in the 
dining-room. A gentleman at the table recognized him, and, 
rising, announced to the numerous company that Gen. Ulysses 
S: Grant was in the room. Simultaneously the -whole company 


496 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


sprang to their feet, and cheer after cheer rang through the 
hall. 

In the evening, he attended President Lincoln’s levee. The 
enthusiasm his presence excited absorbed universal attention. 
Such a scene had never before been witnessed in the presidential 
mansion. The noble President, into whose magnanimous soul an 
emotion of jealousy never found its way, stood by the side of his 
illustrious guest, cheering as heartily as any of the company. 
But Gen. Grant had no taste for such ovations. They were only 
painful to him. As he retired that night, he said to a friend,— 

I hope to getaway from Washington as soon as possible ; for I 
am tired of the show business already.” 

On the 9th, Gen. Grant received in the executive chamber, 
with impressive solemnities, his commission as lieutenant-gen¬ 
eral. All the cabinet, and other distinguished guests, were pres¬ 
ent. In response to a few hearty words from President Lincoln, 
Gen. Grant said,— 

“Mr. President, I accept this commission with gratitude for 
the high honor conferred. With the aid of the noble armies who 
have fought on so many fields for our common country, it will be 
my earnest endeavor not to disappoint your expectations. I feel 
the full weight of the responsibility now devolving upon me. I 
know, that, if it is properly met, it will be due to these armies, and, 
above all, to the favor of that Providence which leads both 
nations and men.” 

We were still in the midst of the war. The land was filled 
with widows and with orphans. Vast armies were still facing each 
other, gathering their strength for a renewal of the conflict. It 
was certain that many a bloody battle was yet to be fought, and 
that many a field was yet to be covered with the mutilated, the 
dying, and the dead. Some of the ladies in Washington, patriotic 
and noble women, but without sufficient reflection, proposed a ball 
in connection with the grand review of the army which was imme¬ 
diately to take place. Gen. Grant replied to them kindly, yet 
sadly, in terms which endeared him to every soldier and every 
soldier’s friend, — 

“ Ladies, I am not a cynic. I enjoy rational pleasures as well as 
any one else. But I would ask you, in all candor and gentleness, 
if this is a time for music and dancing and feasting among the 
officers of the army? Is our country in a condition to call for 


ULYSSES S. GRANT. 


497 


such things at present? Do army balls inspire our troops with 
courage in the field ? Do they soothe our sick and wounded in 
the hospitals ? ” 

The ladies recognized the propriety of these sentiments, and 
cheerfully relinquished the plan. All Gen. Grant’s energies were 
now roused anew to terminate the war by the only possible way, 
th6 destruction of the enemy’s forces. He decided to concentrate 
the widely-dispersed national troops for an attack upon Richmond, 
the nominal capital of the Rebellion, and to endeavor there to de¬ 
stroy the rebel armies which would be promptly assembled from 
all quarters for its defence. The whole continent seemed to 
tremble beneath the tramp of these majestic armies, rushing to 
the decisive battle-field. Steamers were crowded with troops. 
Rail-trains were burdened with the closely packed thousands. 
All the great roads converging towards Richmond were thronged 
with the multitudinous host. 

Gen. Grant’s comprehensive plan involved a series of cam¬ 
paigns. Washington was to be protected from any sudden raid 
by a force in the Valley of the Shenandoah under Gen. Sigel, 
who, at Pea Ridge, had performed exploits which entitled him to 
a nation’s gratitude. Gen. Butler, a man of wide renown for 
energy of character and executive ability, which, perhaps, has 
never been surpassed, with a large force of white and colored 
troops, was to ascend James River, and take position as near as 
possible to Richmond on the south-east. Gen. Sherman, the 
Marshal Ney of our armies, whose signal merits Gen. Grant fully 
comprehended, and whom the nation was just beginning to appre¬ 
ciate, was intrusted with the conduct of one of the most adven¬ 
turous campaigns which has ever been recorded in the annals 
of war. 

From Chattanooga, Gen. Sherman was to crowd closely the re¬ 
treating army of the rebels, so as to prevent their despatching 
any re-enforcements to Richmond, and to fight his way through the 
whole length of Georgia to Savannah; destroying the enemy’s 
forces wherever he should meet them, their munitions of war, 
and every thing which could contribute to the support of the rebel 
armies. Having captured Savannah, to which port ample sup¬ 
plies were to be forwarded to him by water, he was to turn north, 
sweeping all opposition before him, devastating the country so. as 
to prevent any armies from the extreme South from following 


498 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


him. He was to capture, by the way, Charleston, Columbia, and 
every other military post of the rebels, and press vigorously on 
until he should catch sight of the beleaguering banners gathered 
around the walls of Richmond. The conception of the campaign 
was bold, magnificent. It was executed by Gen. Sherman with 
heroism which has elicited the admiration of the world. 

Gen. Meade, one of our most reliable officers, was then in com¬ 
mand of the Army of the Potomac, so called. This army consisted 
of about one hundred thousand men, encamped among the hills 
north of the Rapidan. Here Gen. Grant established his head¬ 
quarters, rapidly accumulating strength, so as to attack the rebel 
general, Lee, upon the south side of the river, and drive him back 
behind the intrenchments of Richmond, when the city would be 
taken by storm if possible, if not, by siege. 

At midnight of the 3d of May, 1864, Gen. Grant broke camp, 
and, with his whole army in light marching order, crossed the 
Rapidan unopposed, a few miles below the intrenchments of the 
rebels. The sun of Austerlitz ’’ shone upon the rejoicing host, 
as with rapid footsteps, all the day, they pressed along, by a fiank 
movement, to gain the rear of the foe. In three columns this 
majestic army of one hundred and fifty thousand men swept 
through the forest paths of this wild and rugged region, appropri¬ 
ately called the Wilderness. The spectacle presented the ensuing 
night was one of the most brilliant and picturesque in war’s 
pageants. The encampment was in a region of great beauty. 
Over a region of eight miles in length, the hillsides and the 
ravines were illuminated with the camp-fires of the army, and no 
sounds were heard but those of joy. But, during these warm and 
peaceful summer hours, the tempest of war was gathering its 
bolts. 

Gen. Lee, in command of the rebel hosts, was an officer of 
great ability. He led troops as desperate in valor as ever 
shouldered a musket. Massing his forces in an immense column, 
he suddenly emerged from the forest, and fell upon the centre of 
our extended line, hoping to cut it in two, and then to destroy 
each part piecemeal. The battle was long, terrible, raging hour 
after hour throughout the whole day, assault following assault. 
When night came, six thousand had been struck down on the two 
sides by war’s death-dealing missiles. The night was dark, but 
mild. The exhausted combatants slept. The dead were buried 


ULYSSES S. GRANT. 


499 


by the light of the lantern dimly burning.’’ The dying, on the 
crimson sod, groaned their lives away. The ambulances dripped 
with blood as they bore their mutilated burdens over the rough 
ground. Through all the long hours the surgeons were busy with 
the mercifully-cruel knife and saw. 

With the rising of the next morning’s sun, the roar of battle 
was resumed. Both parties had gathered all their strength during 
the night, again to grapple each other in death’s throes. It was a 
day of terror and of blood. Before the sun went down, ten thou¬ 
sand Union troops were either killed or wounded. Probably an 
equal number of the rebel host had fallen. But notwithstanding 
their renewed assaults, striking the line here and there, they had 
utterly failed to accomplish their purpose. 

In the night, Gen. Lee, with his army, retreated to seize upon 
another important post, previously intrenched near Spottsylvania 
Court House. The union army pressed along towards the same 
point in nearly parallel lines. There were many fierce battles 
during the day, as portions of the antagonistic hosts, each about 
one hundred and fifty thousand strong, were brought into contact. 
This third day’s battle of the Wilderness was one of the most 
singular which ever occurred. The parallel lines were eight or 
ten miles in length ; and there were many sanguinary battles 
fought where the combatants, concealed by the forest and the un¬ 
derbrush, could scarce catch sight of each other. 

The rebels gained the intrenchments during the night of Satur¬ 
day. Sunday morning, Gen. Grant fell upon their works. There 
was another long day of battle and of blood. The rebels were 
driven from their first line of intrenchments, with the loss of 
twenty-five hundred prisoners. The light of Monday morning had 
scarcely dawned ere Gen. Grant, with all his batteries, again 
opened fire upon the foe behind his earthworks. All the day the 
roar of battle was unintermitted. Monday night came and went 
in silence. Heavy eyelids dropped in sleep, and exhausted arms 
were nerveless. 

Tuesday morning, the 10th of May, roused both armies, invigo¬ 
rated by a few hours of sleep and rest. The rebels were strongly 
intrenched. The national troops bent around them in a circuit 
about six miles in extent. With the morning the battle was 
recommenced, and continued until night. The mightiest billows 
of war swept incessantly to and fro over the fields. At the close 


500 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


of the day, a simultaneous assault was made upon the entire rebel 
line. The charge was resistless. They were swept from their 
outer series of intrenchments, having lost two thousand prisoners. 
Darkness terminated the awful struggle. Twenty thousand men, 
ten thousand on either side, were the victims of this day of 
carnage. 

These incessant battles had so exhausted both armies, that for 
one day there was a partial lull in the conflict. The rebels kept 
behind their intrenchments, while burial-parties were busy covering 
the dead. Still Gen. Grant kept up a continual shelling of their 
lines, and made preparation to attack the sleeping foe by surprise 
when darkness should come. At midnight, in the midst of a 
tempest of thunder, lightning, and drenching rain, Gen. Hancock 
plunged with a strong column upon one division of the foe, and 
drove them pell-mell before him, capturing seven thousand pris¬ 
oners and thirty-two guns. This impetuous charge was the signal 
for another general battle which continued during the remainder 
of the night, and continued with unintermitted fury, as the sun 
rose, as noon came and went, until the evening twilight again 
darkened the scene. A struggle of fourteen hours struck down 
twenty thousand in dead and wounded. By such carnage both 
armies would soon have been consumed, were it not that they 
were both continually receiving re-enforcements. 

Still Gen. Grant was steadily pressing forward, never relinquish¬ 
ing a foot of ground which he had gained. In the day’s conflict, 
he pushed his line forward a full mile, lapping over the left centre 
of the foe. The night was dark and tempestuous. The rain fell 
fast, and the dismal storm availed through the tree-tops as if in 
sympathy with human woe. Twenty thousand sons, husbands, 
fathers, wounded and dying! Who can gauge the dimensions of 
such woe ? Who can imagine the anguish the tidings conveyed 
to thousands of once happy homes? And who is to be held re¬ 
sponsible for all this misery, — those who were defending our free 
institutions, that equal rights for all men might be transmitted to 
our posterity ; or those who had wantonly, with arms in their hands, 
made war upon the national banner, that they might destroy the 
government which our fathers have transmitted to us, and erect 
upon the ruins a new government whose corner-stone should be 
slavery? There can be no question upon which side the sympa¬ 
thies of Heaven were enlisted. 


ULYSSES S. GRANT. 


501 


During this dreadful night of dying groans, of darkness, rain, 
and wind, the national army marched rapidly and secretly along 
by another flank movement, and before the dawn had gained the 
new vantage-ground which they sought. This was a series of 
ridges two miles beyond Spottsylvania Court House. But the 
watchful rebels had already manned intrenchments before them, 
which had previously been prepared to arrest any such march 
upon Richmond. Sunday morning came, the twelfth day of the 
campaign. The roads, inundated with rain, had become almost 
impassable. Both parties were in a state of extreme exhaustion. 
New supplies of ammunition were needed, and re-enforcements to 
fill up the broken ranks. Intrenchments were thrown up on each 
side, and positions taken for the renewal of the conflict. Thus 
passed Monday and Tuesday. At midnight of Tuesday, Gen. 
Grant put several strong columns in motion to attack the enemy 
by surprise upon his left: reconnoitering parties had detected some 
weakness there. 

With the early light of Wednesday morning, the assault com¬ 
menced. The roar of another pitched battle, extending for miles, 
in which several hundred cannon blended their voices, echoed 
over the hills. The defence was as spirited as the assault. At 
eleven o’clock in the morning, our columns, unable to break a line 
frowning with rifle-pits, abatis, and ramparts, withdrew, having 
lost twelve hundred in killed and wounded. As soon, however, as 
night again came, Gen. Grant sent a cavalry force ten miles for¬ 
ward in a south-east direction to seize Guinea Station, on the Rich¬ 
mond and Fredericksburg Railroad. They seized the position, and 
in the morning the whole army followed. To meet the wants of 
the army in this rapid advance, Gen. Grant was continually so 
changing his base of supplies as to prevent the foe from falling 
back upon his rear, and cutting off his supply-trains. 

Many of the intelligent community felt great anxiety lest the 
foe should turn back, in all his strength, and capture Washington. 

The following conversation is reported as having taken place in 
the tent of the reticent general. A stranger who was present 
said, — 

General, if you flank Lee, and get between him and Rich¬ 
mond, will you not uncover Washington, and leave it exposed to 
the enemy ? ” 

Yes: I reckon so,” was the general’s quiet reply. 


502 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


“ Do you not think, general,” the stranger continued, “ that Lee 
can detach suflScient force to re-enforce Beauregard at Richmond, 
and overwhelm Butler?” 

I have not a doubt of it,” Grant replied. 

^‘And is there not danger,” the stranger added, “that Johnston 
may come up and re-enforce Lee, so that the latter will swing 
round, and cut off your communications, and seize your supplies ? ” 

“ Very likely,” was the unconcerned response. 

Gen. Grant had carefully weighed all these possibilities. His 
military sagacity had taught him that Gen. Lee, pressed as 
Grant was pressing him, would not attempt any one of them. He 
had also decided just what to do in case either of these move¬ 
ments should be undertaken. By Gen. Grant’s last advance to 
Guinea Station, the rebels were left nearly ten miles in his rear. 
They made a desperate attack upon the supply-wagons, which 
were then defiling in a long line from Fredericksburg. The 
wagons were so well guarded that the attack of the foe was futile. 
The fierceness of the assault, and the resolution of the defence, 
may be inferred from the fact that twenty-four hundred men, on 
the two sides, were killed or wounded in the conflict. 

Gen. Lee was thoroughly alarmed. He was not only in danger 
that his line of communication would be cut off, but also that Gen. 
Grant might seize the intrenchments around Richmond, and 
render the capture of the city and the destruction of his army 
inevitable. Thus, in the greatest haste, he abandoned the strong 
works he was then occupying, and took another line of defence 
on the banks of the North Anna River. While on their march, 
Gen. Grant sent a division to fall upon their rear. Four hundred 
prisoners were cut off. The rebels were driven across the Ny, 
leaving the path behind them strewed with their wounded and 
dying. 

Both armies were immersed in the intricacies of hills and 
ravines densely covered with forests. It was Friday, the 20th of 
May. The troops on each side were pushing rapidly for Rich¬ 
mond, in nearly parallel lines, but a few miles separated from each 
other. On Saturday the Union troops reached Bowling Green, 
having marched thirty-two miles that day. 

“ The march of the army on Saturday was picturesque and 
beautiful. It was one of the loveliest days of spring, with a cloud¬ 
less sky, a bright sun, and an invigorating breeze. The roads 


ULYSSES S. GRANT. 


503 


were dry and in perfect condition. The scenery was enchanting, 
with its clear streams, its green meadows, its hills, its groves, its 
luxuriance, and its bloom. An army of one hundred and fifty 
thousand men, with their banners, their gleaming weapons, their 
plumed horsemen, their artillery, their wagons, crowded the roads, 
winding over the hills and through the valleys. Few persons are 
aware of the magnitude of such an army. Gen. Grant’s vast host 
— artillery, infantry, and baggage-train — would fill, in a contin¬ 
uous line of march, any one road to its utmost capacity, for a dis¬ 
tance of nearly one hundred miles. In this march, the immense 
army crowded the whole region over a breadth of from ten to 
fifteen miles. All the public roads and wood-paths were traversed. 
One mind presided supreme over these operations, as day after 
day, and night after night, through darkness, through forest, 
through morasses, over streams and rivers, storming intrench- 
ments, and fighting their way against a determined foe of a hun¬ 
dred thousand desperate soldiers, the Union troops pressed 
resistlessly on.” * 

All da}^ Sunday, both armies marched rapidly along. Gen. Lee 
watched anxiously, but in vain, for an opportunity to break Gen. 
Grant’s line by a flank attack. Several assaults were made, which 
were promptly repulsed. Monday morning, Gen. Grant was within 
forty miles of Richmond. The rebels attempted to make a stand 
on the banks of the North Anna. They were driven from their 
intrenchments, and the Union troops encamped upon both sides 
of the stream. On Tuesday the whole army, with all its materiel^ 
crossed the rapid stream. Gen. Grant was within a day’s march 
of Richmond. His line had a front about four miles in extent, 
facing west. Gen. Lee, at the distance of a few miles, on a paral¬ 
lel line, was facing east. 

A reconnoissance showed that Lee was too strongly intrenched 
to be attacked. Gen. Grant, concealing his movement by a 
strong demonstration, re-crossed the river. Marching rapidly down 
its northern bank, he seized Hanover Ferry, on the Pamunkey 
River, which stream is formed by the union of the North and 
South Anna. By a new change in his line of communication, all 
his supplies were brought in transports up the Pamunkey. He 
was now within fifteen miles of Richmond. The military ability 

* Life of Gen. Grant, by John S. C. Abbott. 


504 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


displayed in this march from the Rapidan to the Pamunkey has 
rarely been surpassed. Apparently, there was perfect harmony 
between him and his oflScers. There were no misunderstandings. 
His words were few. His orders were so distinctly given that 
they could not be misapprehended. 

It is diflScult to conceive how the army could have endured 
such fatigue. It seemed to be Gen. Grant’s plan to march all day 
and fight all night. Waiting at Hanover Ferry for a few hours, to 
concentrate his troops, the whole army, with its baggage-train, 
crossed the Pamunkey on Sunday, the 29th. During the day, 
there were many severe skirmishes with the foe. But nothing 
could retard the advance of the national troops. 

On Wednesday morning, June 1, Gen. Grant’s army was at Cold 
Harbor, within a few miles of Richmond. His troops were posted 
in a line about eight miles in length, extending north-east and 
south-west. Gen. Lee vigorously assailed several positions of the 
line, hoping to break it. He was invariably repulsed. On each 
side a thousand in killed and wounded were the victims of this 
day. Lee’s army now took position behind the ramparts, bastions, 
and forts, which had been reared, with the highest attainments of 
military skill, for the defence of Richmond. These works were 
manned with the heaviest guns. The garrison in Richmond and 
Lee’s army united crowded them with desperate defenders. 

Wednesday night was dark and rainy. Through the dismal 
hours of the night, and through all the day of Thursday, Gen. 
Grant was arraying his forces for an attack upon the intrenched 
foe. The strength of the works could only be ascertained by 
attacking them. Success would open to Kim an unobstructed 
path into Richmond. Should he fail, he had another plan carefully 
matured. On Thursday, there were several sanguinary conflicts, 
as the troops were massed for the decisive struggle. At four 
o’clock, Friday morning, the battle commenced. All the energies 
of both armies were roused to the utmost. A dreadful day of 
blood ensued. In charge after charge, the Union troops advanced 
to the muzzles of the intrenched guns of the foe, which were 
belching forth storms of canister and grape. Three hundred 
thousand men were struggling along a line several miles in length, 
plying, with frantic energy, the most murderous instruments of 
modern warfare. Clouds of cavalry swept to and fro. Batteries 
were lost, and batteries were won. There were successful charges 


ULYSSES S. GRANT. 


505 


and bloody repulses. The battle ceased only with the night. 
Seven thousand ot the national troops had been killed or wounded. 
Though we had made a decided advance, and gained several im¬ 
portant positions, it was manifest that the rebels were so firmly 
intrenched that they could not be driven from their works. 

Mercy would throw a veil over the horrors of a night succeed¬ 
ing a bloody battle. The burial of the dead, the dying groans, 
the blood-dripping ambulances, the saw and tlie knife of the sur¬ 
geon cutting through quivering nerves, — all this the army must 
disregard so far as possible, that the troops, in a few hours of 
sleep, may get strength to renew the struggle on the morrow. 

Saturday morning dawned. The hostile forces at many points 
were within a few yards of each other, rampart frowning upon 
rampart. Tens of thousands were busy with the spade, while 
sharpshooters on either side kept up an incessant fire. After dark, 
the rebels concentrated a heavy force, and threw it upon our ex¬ 
treme left. Gen. Hancock received them without recoil, and 
threw them back, routed and bleeding. All day Sunday, both 
parties continued at work in the trenches, while shells were vigor¬ 
ously thrown from both sides, and not a head or hand could be 
exposed but it became the target for many bullets. 

The ensuing night was very dark. A chill, dense fog settled 
down over the whole region. At midnight the rebels made 
another desperate plunge with a strong column upon a portion in 
our line, opening at the same time a terrible fire from all the bat¬ 
teries which could be brought to bear upon the point of attack. 
The veteran national troops, now familiar with all conceivable 
vicissitudes and horrors of war, stood as firm as the granite cliff 
against which the surge is dashed and broken. Volley after vol¬ 
ley of grape and canister was poured into the advancing ranks. 
Leaving the ground covered with more than a thousand of the 
wounded and the slain, they turned and fled. The w^ar-tempest 
disappeared as suddenly as it had risen. 

Tuesday was like Monday. Spades were everywhere busy. 
The air was filled with shells. The roar of artillery incessantly 
shook the hills, and the crackle of rifles from thousands of sharp¬ 
shooters, ever on the alert, was unintermitted. Again, at mid¬ 
night, the rebels made an assault upon Gen. Burnside’s corps. 
That gallant officer, who had won renown at Knoxville, repulsed 
them bloodily. Wednesday came and went. Through all its 

64 


506 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


hours the roar of the bombardment continued, gun answering 
gun, while ramparts and bastions rose as by magic, facing each 
other, and often so near that the soldiers interchanged jokes and 
banter. There was not a strong antagonism between the rank 
and file of the armies. The leaders of the Rebellion, with power 
over the unenlightened poor white population of the South 
scarcely exceeded by that of the feudal despots of the middle 
ages over their serfs, had brought on the war. 

Thoughtful men were wondering what object Gen. Grant had 
in view in the tremendous labors of this week of battle. It was 
manifest that he could not take by storm the works of the foe 
frowning before him. The mystery was soon revealed. On Sat¬ 
urday, orders were given for the immediate and vigorous change 
of the base of supplies from the Chickahominy to the James 
River. Sunday morning, blinding the eyes of the foe with a cloud 
of skirmishers, Gen. Grant, with the mass of his immense army, 
commenced another flank movement. 'Descending the left bank 
of the Chickahominy, he crossed it unseen, several miles below the 
enemy’s lines, and by a rapid march reached the James River, 
crossed it on pontoon-bridges, and took a strong position in the 
rear of Lee’s arm}^, south of Richmond. Three days were occu¬ 
pied in this marvellous feat. A more brilliant achievement the 
war had not witnessed. 

In the presence of a foe equal in numbers, whose valor could 
scarcely be exceeded, led by generals as able as the nineteenth 
century could furnish, Gen. Grant conducted an army of one 
hundred and fifty thousand men a distance of fifty-five miles by a 
flank march, and across two wide rivers, without the loss of a 
wagon or a gun. It was on Wednesday morning, the 15th of 
June, that the advance corps crossed James River, and effected a 
junction wfith Gen. Butler’s encampment at Bermuda Hundreds. 
They tlien crossed the Appomattox, and, rapidly traversing its 
southern bank, commenced an attack upon Petersburg. 

Gen. Lee was appalled, as he suddenly heard the thunders of 
Gen. Grant’s artillery fifty miles south of him. With a rush he 
abandoned his now useless ramparts, and by railroad and turn¬ 
pike hurried his army, with the utmost possible speed, to man the 
works which thousands of negro hands had been compelled to 
rear for the defence of Petersburg. A bird’s-eye view of this 
scene would have presented one of the most picturesque spec- 


ULYSSES S. GRANT. 


507 


tacles earth has witnessed. Its beaut}^, however, would have 
been lost in contemplation of its horrors, as frenzied men muti¬ 
lated and destroyed each other, extorting wails of anguish from 
thousands of distant homes, which, could they have been heard, 
would almost have drowned the clangor of the battle. Over a 
space forty miles long and fifteen broad, three hundred thousand 
men, in martial bands of horse and foot, with all the enginery of 
war, were sweeping to and fro in apparently inextricable confu¬ 
sion. Wherever the heads of the columns met, a desperate battle 
ensued. Thundering cannon and mortars hurtled shot and shell 
through the air. The smoke, the flame, the roar, the turmoil, was 
as if the region were in volcanic eruption. 

Though there were many repulses, and blood flowed freely, the 
Union troops were steadily gaining. Our soldiers encountered a 
triple line of intrenchments, well manned. The outer line was 
captured, with sixteen guns and three hundred prisoners. Two 
thousand Union soldiers were struck down in killed and wounded 
that day. The rebel loss is not known. But little reliance could 
ever be placed in their statements. The Rebellion commenced in 
deceit, and was carried on in deceit until its close. The next day, 
Friday, the battle was renewed, and raged all day long with as 
much ferocity as human desperation could inspire. Though the 
enemy contested every foot of ground, step by step Gen. Grant 
gained upon them, until at night he had obtained a position from 
which several shells were thrown into the streets of Petersburg. 

On Saturday the antagonistic armies again grappled each other 
in death^s throes. Battery answered battery. Charge succeeded 
charge. The onset of the national troops was so terrible that 
Gen. Lee was compelled to abandon his second line, and concen¬ 
trate all his strength for the defence of the inner series of works. 
This movement he accomplished mainly during Friday night and 
Saturday, In this three days’ battle around the ramparts of 
Petersburg, we lost over ten thousand men in killed and wounded 
and missing. As the rebels fought under cover, their loss must 
have been much less. 

Petersburg, with a population of fifteen thousand, is about 
twenty-five miles south of Richmond. Its defences were found 
unexpectedly strong. The city could only be taken by siege. 
We have not space here to enter into the details of the struggle 
which ensued. There were never more fearless soldiers, never 


508 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


more able generals, never before such destructive enginery of 
war. Every day was a battle. The rebels fought with courage 
which would have elicited admiration had their cause been a good 
one. But their openly-avowed object was to overthrow the Con¬ 
stitution of the United States, and to erect upon the ruins of our 
free institutions a government whose corner-stone should be 
slavery. 

Gen. Grant gradually extended his lines, fighting for every 
point he gained, until he had completely invested the city on the 
south and west, cutting those railroads by which alone supplies 
could be received directly from the south. His circuitous line 
soon extended thirty miles in length. It is obvious that Gen. 
Lee, from his central position, could at his leisure mass an im¬ 
mense force, and strike this line upon any point. The skill with 
which Gen. Grant guarded against this danger, while at the same 
time he was incessantly attacking the foe and gaining new posi¬ 
tions, has placed him, in the estimation of all capable judges, among 
the most able commanders. 

“ It is wonderful,’’ writes the army correspondent of Harper’s 
Weekl}^,” ‘‘ how entirely the army confides in Gen. Grant. Every 
soldier’s tongue is full of his praises. They will tell you stories 
of his watchfulness and care ; the fearlessness and intrepidity of 
this man whose plume the}^ delight to follow; how he is every¬ 
where, night and day, looking after the comfort of his men, and 
quietly prosecuting the strategic work of the campaign; how he 
rides unexpectedly to the remote outposts, speaking a pleasant 
word to the pickets if faithfully on duty, and administering repri¬ 
mands if not vigilant and watchful; how he avoids fuss and show, 
going often about with only an orderly ; how his staff, plain 
earnest men like himself, get down from their horses, that sick and 
wounded men, struggling hospital-ward, may rest their weariness 
by riding to their destination ; how, in a word, he is a thoughtful, 
resolute, kind man, sympathizing with the humblest soldier in his 
ranks, penetrated with a solemn appreciation of the work given 
him to do, and determined by Heaven’s help to do it right on the 
line he has occupied.” 

Days, weeks, months ensued, of herculean labors and struggles 
between the beleaguered and beleaguering hosts. Every day ter¬ 
rific blows were struck by the assailants. Every day these blows 
were returned by the assailed. Shells of fearful explosive power 


ULYSSES S. GRANT. 


509 


were thrown by day and by night into the doomed city. Streets 
were torn up, mutilation and death were scattered widely around, 
houses were demolished, conflagration's enkindled. The scene at 
midnight, as viewed from some eminence, was awful in its sub¬ 
limity. The camp-fires of the slumbering hosts illumining the 
region for leagues around, the thunders of the heavy siege- 
guns, the shriek of the shells, the smothered roar of their distant 
explosion in the streets of Petersburg, the dense volumes of 
smoke and flame bursting from the city, and the ringing of the 
alarm-bells borne mournfully to the ear upon the night air, all pre¬ 
sented a spectacle as saddening as it was sublime. Terrible as 
were these woes, they were nothing in comparison with those 
which would have resulted from the destruction of our free insti¬ 
tutions, the breaking up of the Union, and the anarchy and end¬ 
less wars which would inevitably have ensued. Our nation was 
born through the throes of the Revolution. In this its second 
birth, in the puriflcation and regeneration of its institutions, it 
was the decree of God that the work should be accomplished 
through the ministration of suffering. 

As the weeks of battle and of blood rolled on, Gen. Grant, step 
by step, was continually approaching nearer the attainment of his 
one great end. July and August passed rapidly away. Early in 
September the army was cheered by the news that Gen. Sherman 
had taken Atlanta, and was preparing for a rapid march througli 
Georgia and the Carolinas to co-operate with the army before the 
ramparts of Richmond. About this time Gen. Grant said, in one 
of his official reports to the goverment,— 

From an early period in the Rebellion, I had been impressed 
with tlie idea that active and continuous operations of all the 
troops that could be brought into the field, regardless of season 
and weather, were necessary to a speedy termination of the 
war. From the first, I was firm in the conviction that no peace 
could be had that would be stable, and conducive to the happiness 
of the people, both North and South, until the military power of 
the Rebellion was entirely broken. I therefore determined, first, 
to use the greatest number of troops practicable against the armed 
force of the enemy, preventing him from using the same force at 
different seasons, against first one and then another of our armies, 
and from the possibility of repose for refitting and producing 
nccessaiy supplies for carrying on resistance ; second, to hammer 


510 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


continually against the armed force of the enemy, and his resources, 
until, by mere attrition, if in no other way, there should be 
nothing left to him but an equal submission, with the loyal section 
of our common country, to the Constitution and laws of the land.’^ 

Still the months rolled on, with bombardments, and exploding 
mines, and raids, and charges, and fierce battles, each day number¬ 
ing its multitude of victims. Gen. Grant, in this great struggle, 
was continually advancing, and seldom losing any position he once 
had gained. The latter part of December, the cheering tidings 
reached the army that Gen. Sherman had achieved his sublime 
march to Savannah. With sixty thousand men, three thousand 
five hundred baggage-wagons, and thirty-five thousand draught- 
horses, in addition to his cavalry, he had swept across the State in 
a path sixty miles wide and three hundred miles long, destroying 
every thing which could assist the rebels in carrying on the war. 

In a march of twenty-four days, with a loss of but five hundred 
and sixty-seven men, Gen. Sherman had routed the foe wherever 
met, had captured thirteen hundred and thirty-eight rebel soldiers, 
had taken thirteen thousand head of beef cattle, over nine million 
pounds of corn, and ten millions of fodder. Foragers in great 
numbers had been sent out daily to gather from the plantations 
every variety of supplies for the hungry army,— sheep, swine, 
turkeys, geese, chickens, and rice. Five thousand horses and 
four thousand mules were impressed into the service of the troops. 
Three hundred and twenty miles of railway were destroyed. The 
ties were burned, the rails twisted, the depots laid in ashes. Thus 
the rebel armies in the south-west were effectually cut off by a 
barrier of desolation from communication with the troops of Lee 
in Richmond. 

Thus closed the year 1864. The cause of the Rebellion was 
hopeless. And now Gen. Sherman turned his triumphant columns 
towards the north. In resistless march he swept through the 
States of South and North Carolina, driving the rebels before him, 
and capturing every important place till he met the banners of 
Gen. Sheridan'S cavalry and Gen. Schofield’s divisions, sent to 
Goldsborough to greet him. The two armies were thus united. 
Gen. Sherman immediately repaired to the headquarters of Gen. 
Grant. It was the 29th of March, 1865. 

Gen. Grant’s lines of investment extended forty miles, from the 
north side of the James to Hatchie’s Run. The great fear now 


ULYSSES S. GRANT. 


611 


was that Lee, with his army, might attempt to escape, and effect 
a junction with Gen. Johnston, who had an army of infantry 
and cavalry at Raleigh, N.C., numbering about fifty thousand. 
These united armies, falling suddenly on Sherman’s troops, might 
crush them. Gen. Grant watched the foe with a sleepless eye, pre'- 
pared to assail him with his whole force as soon as he should 
see any indications that he was about to abandon his works. 

On Friday, the last day of March, there \vere decisive indica¬ 
tions of a movement. The whole national army was at once 
hurled upon the rebel lines. For three days the battle raged 
with determination, on each side, never exceeded during any 
period of the war. In the night of the 3d of April, Lee, con¬ 
scious that he could not resist the assault of another day, fled with 
the bleeding, shattered remnants of his army. As the national 
troops, in the early dawn of the next morning, rushed into the 
unoccupied trenches, the joyful tidings ran along the wires 
through the whole length and breadth of the land, — 

'' Richmond and Petersburg are ours. A third part of Lee’s 
army is destroyed. For the remainder there is no escape.” 

The rebels were hotly pursued. The roads along which they 
fled were strewed with the debris of a demoralized and fugitive 
host. Many prisoners were taken. In anticipation of this flight, 
Gen. Grant had placed the Fifth Corps in such a position that, 
by a rapid march, it was thrown in front of the foe, and thus 
effectually cut off his retreat. The rebel army was now at our 
mercy. Throughout the whole conflict there had been great sym¬ 
pathy felt in the North for the common soldiers of the rebel army, 
composed of very ignorant men, who had been deluded or forced 
into the ranks. Sympathy for them led Gen. Grant magnanimous¬ 
ly to make the first advances, and to urge Gen. Lee to spare him 
the pain of destroying these misguided men. The rebel troops 
were so surrounded, and so exposed to the fire of many batteries, 
that a battle-storm of bullets, shot, and shell, would, in a few 
hours, cover the plain with their corpses. It was the 9th of 
April, Gen. Grant sent the following despatch to Lee : — 

The result of the last week must convince you of the hope¬ 
lessness of further resistance on the part of the Army of North¬ 
ern Virginia in this struggle. I feel that it is so, and regard it 
as my duty to shift from myself the responsibility of any further 
effusion of blood, by asking of you the surrender of that portion 


512 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


of the Confederate Army known as the Army of Northern Vir¬ 
ginia.^’ 

To Gen. Lee’s inquiry, respecting the ternivS of surrender 
which would be accepted, Gen. Grant replied,— 

Peace being my first desire, there is but one condition I insist 
upon, namely, that the men surrendered shall be disqualified 
for taking up arms against the government of the United States 
until properly exchanged.” 

Gen. Lee, assuming that he was not placed in an emergence 
which required surrender, but that he was still able to carry on 
the war, proposed an interview, that he and Gen. Grant might 
talk over the matter of the “ restoration of peace.” Gen. Grant’s 
prompt reply indicates the clearness of his views respecting the 
only responsibilities which devolved upon him : — 

As I have no authority,” he said, to treat on the subject of 
peace, the meeting proposed could lead to no good. I will state, 
however, general, that I am equally anxious for peace with your¬ 
self; and the whole North entertains the same feeling. The 
terms upon which peace may be had are well understood. By 
the South laying down their arms, they will hasten that most de¬ 
sirable event, save thousands of human lives, and hundreds of 
millions of property not yet destroyed. Sincerely hoping that all 
our difficulties may be settled without the loss of another life, I 
subscribe myself, 

‘‘ Very respectfully, your obedient servant, 

U. S. Grant.” 

Having despatched this letter, Gen. Grant lost not a moment in 
waiting for a reply, but pressed forward his preparations to de¬ 
stroy the army if surrender were refused. Gen. Lee saw clearly 
that with such a man it was in vain to attempt to parley. He 
consented to an interview to arrange for a surrender. The terms 
of Gen. Grant were very simple and decisive. All the rebel offi¬ 
cers and men were to give their parole not to serve against the 
United States until exchanged. All the materiel of war was to be 
given up. The officers could retain their side-arms, horses,- and 
baggage. These terms were signed at half past three in the after¬ 
noon of April the 9th. The rebel troops were then upon a plain, 
surrounded by the batteries of the national army. The tidings 


/ 


ULYSSES S. on ANT. 513 

of the capitulatiorl first reached the ears of the rebels. It was to 
them deliverance from slaughter. Cheer upon cheer burst from 
their exhausted ranks. Their shouts conveyed the tidings to our 
army, and were echoed back in heartfelt hurrahs, till over all the 
embattled hills and plain the voices of friend and foe blended in 
the joyful cry. Largo bands of the Union army, pressing forward 
from the rear, one after another cauglit the shout, and, learning 
its significance, sent it along to those behind in reverberating 
peals. 

It was now certain th »t the spirit of rebellion was effectually 
trampled down. Jolinston^s condition was hopeless. He could 
be instantly crushed between the armies of Grant and Sherman. 
He surrendered. All the scattered rebel bands soon did the same, 
or dispersed. Thousands threw down their arms, and fled to their 
homes. The number surrendered amounted to 174,223. We had 
also then on hand rebel prisoners to the amount of 98,802. Jef¬ 
ferson Davis endeavored, with a small cavalry escort, to escape to 
some southern seaport, whence he hoped to take ship for foreign 
lands. On the lOth of May he was captured at Irwinsville, in 
Georgia. The war was ended. The Union was saved. The 
almost unanimous voice of the nation declared Gen. Grant to be the 
most prominent instrument in its salvation. The eminent ser¬ 
vices he had thus rendered the country brought him conspicu¬ 
ously forward as the Republican candidate for the presidential 
chair. 

On the 21st of May, 1868, the Republican Convention, assembled 
at Chicago, adopted a series of resolutions, a platform, so called, 
of the principles of the party. The essential points were, that 
equal civil and political rights should be secured to all; that Con¬ 
gress should guarantee equal suffrage to all loyal men at the 
South; and that all forms of repudiation were to bo denounced as 
a national crime. The following very important article was also 
added to their platform : — 

“ We profoundly deplore the untimely and tragic death of Abra¬ 
ham Lincoln, and regret the accession to the presidency of 
Andrew Johnson, who has acted treacherously to the people who 
elected him, and to the cause which he was pledged to support; 
who has usurped high legislative and judicial functions ; who has 
refused to execute the laws; who has used his high office to induce 
other officers to ignore and violate the laws; who has employed 
65 


514 


LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 


his executive powers to render insecure the property, the peace, 
liberty, and life of the citizen; who has abused the pardoning 
power; who has denounced the national legislature as unconstitu¬ 
tional; who has persistently and corruptly resisted, by every 
means in his power, every proper attempt at the reconstruction 
of the States lately in rebellion; who has perverted the public 
patronage into an engine of wholesale corruption; and who has 
been justly impeached for higli crimes and misdemeanors, and 
properly pronounced guilty thereof by the vote of thirty-five 
senators.” 

This platform having been accepted, Ulysses S. Grant was 
nominated to the Convention as the candidate of the Republican 
party for the chief magistracy. The vote was taken. In the fol¬ 
lowing terms it was announced: — 

Gentlemen of the Convention, you have six hundred and fifty 
votes; and you have given six hundred and fifty votes for Gen. 
Ulysses S. Grant.” 

The enthusiasm inspired by this announcement, in the vast 
Opera-House where the Convention was held, cannot be described. 
As soon as it had in some degree subsided, the Hon. Schuy¬ 
ler Colfax of Indiana was nominated for the vice-presidency. 
After a few ballotings, he was unanimously elected. 

With this platform, Gen. Grant and Mr. Colfax were submitted 
to the suffrages of the people of the United States. In accepting 
the nomination, Gen. Grant, after expressing his cordial approval 
of the platform, said,— 

If elected to the office of President of the United States, it 
will be my endeavor to administer all the laws in good faith, with 
economy, and with the view of giving peace, quiet, and pro¬ 
tection everywhere. In times like the present it is impossible, or 
at least eminently improper, to lay down a policy to be adhered to, 
right or wrong, through an administration of four years. New 
political issues, not foreseen, are constantly arising; the views of 
the public on old ones are constantly changing; and a purely ad¬ 
ministrative officer should always be left free to execute the will 
of the people. I always have respected that will, and always 
shall. Peace and universal prosperity, its sequence, with econo¬ 
my of administration, will lighten the burden of taxation, while it 
constantly reduces the national debt. Let us have peace.” 

Gov. Horatio Seymour of New York was the candidate of 


ULYSSES S. GRANT. 


515 


the Democratic party. The election was hotly contested. In the 
popular vote, there were 5,922,084 votes cast. Of these, Grant 
received 3,016,353. Seymour received 2,906,631. Grant’s ma¬ 
jority was 109,722. Thirty-four States cast their votes for elect¬ 
ors. Three, unreconstructed, did not vote. Twenty-six of the 
States gave their electoral votes, numbering 214, for Grant. 
Eight cast their votes, counting 80, for Seymour. Thus, in 
accordance with the provisions of the Constitution, it was an¬ 
nounced that Ulysses S. Grant was elected President of the United 
States by a majority of 134 electoral votes. 

On the 4th of March, 1869, Gen. Grant entered upon the duties 
of his office under the most flattering circumstances. The oppos¬ 
ing party cordially concurred in the election. All the billows 
which the tempest of war had raised were rapidly subsiding. 
The country was in a state of extraordinary prosperity. Nearly 
all the serious questions which had hitherto divided the parties 
were settled. And, so far as human intelligence can judge, this 
great republic has now entered upon a career of grandeur and 
power which must soon eclipse all Persian, Grecian, and Roman 
renown. 




INDEX 


A-dams, John. Mis birth, 57. Hid noble am¬ 
bition, 59. Mis true heroism, 6b. His in¬ 
cessant labors, 67. Goes to Europe, 73 . His 
integrity, 78. Second visit to Europe, 79. 
His wonderful exertions, 83. His first inter¬ 
view with George HI., 85. Elected Vice- 
1 resident, 88. Inaugurated President, 92. 
Opposes the British right of search, 93. 
lys death and character, 9G, His opinion 
of Thomas Jefferson, lOi. 

Ada^is, Mrs. John, expresses a truly noble 
sentiment, 81. Joins her husband in Eu¬ 
rope, 84. Her appearance when seventy 
years old, 94. 

Adams, John Quincy. His birth and child¬ 
hood, 185. Graduates at Harvard College, 
and studies law, 187. Chosen to United- 
States Senate, 189. Alienated from his par¬ 
ty, 191. Minister to Russia, 192. Minister 
to England, 194. Elected President, 195. 
Sent to Congress, 198. His eloquence, 199. 
His scathing reply to T. F. Marshall, 204. 
His death, 206. 

Administration of John Quincy Adams, 195. 

Aggressions of England, i;35. 

Alexander of Russia receives John Quincy 
Adams with marked favor, 192. Offers to 
mediate in our war with England, 193. 

American Commission in Paihs, 80. 

Anecdotes. Of Washington, 12, 40, 53, 54. 
John Adams, 57. Franklin and Adams, 69. 
Jefferson and his bride, 102. Lafayette, 117. 
Mrs. James Madison, 156. President Madi¬ 
son, 167. President Monroe, 182. Russian 
officers, 192. Warren R. Davis, 198. Andrew 
Jackson, 214, 215, 217, 225. Mrs. James K. 
Polk and Henry Clay, 288. Gen. Kearney 
and an Indian chief, 308. Gen. Z. Taylor, 
312. Gen. Pierce, 346. Abraham Lincoln, 
378, 381, 385, 390, 420-428. Gov. Andrew 
Johnson, 448. 

Appeal from loyal men from all States of the 
Union, 471. 

Battle. Of New Orleans, 230. Okeechobee, 
303. Monterey, 316. 3Iolino del Rey, 347. 

Blair, Secretary, opposes the issue of the 
Emancipation Proclamation, 415. 

Bodfish, Capt., the skilful lumberman, .341. 

Booth, John Wilkes, assassinates President 
Lincoln, 431. 

Brandywine, Americans defeated at, 41. 

British Government, how they regarded 
the American struggle, 34. 

British loss at New Orleans, 2.35. 

Buchanan, James. His home and ancestry, 
352. Faithfulness as a member of Con¬ 
gress, .354. Speech upon the tariff, 355. 
Sustains President Polk. 356. Elected Pres¬ 
ident, 358. Reply to the Silliman Letter, 
361. Retires to Wheatland, 374. 

Buena Vista, battle ofj 319. 

Burr, Aaron. His opinion of Andrew Jack- 
son, 223. 

Cass, Gen. Lewis, nominated for the presi¬ 
dency, 386. 


! Ceremony observed by Gen. Washington, 90. 

Colonial Congress. Its first sitting, 63. 
Lord Chatham’s opinion of its ability and 
heroism, 64. 

Commissioners sent to France, 107. 

Committees of Correspondence, their ori¬ 
gin, 102. 

Comparison between the American presi¬ 
dents and the kings of Europe, 151. 

Condition of the Army. At the commence¬ 
ment of the Revolutionary War, 30. After 
the evacuation of New York, 36. Of the 
rebel States during and after the civil war, 
469. 

Conspirators. Their designs, 432. 

Constitution of the United States, and 
its fruits, 51. Call from James Madison to 
frame it, 152. Opinions of distinguished 
men concerning it, 153. Presented to the 
people, 155. 

Conversation of Jackson and Scott, 373. 

Cornwallis, encircled, surrenders, 47. 

Debate. On the admission of Missouri into 
the Union, 182. Between Mr. Lincoln and 
Mr. Douglas, 388. 

Declaration of Independence, drawn up 
by Thomas Jefferson, 105; in Mecklenburg, 
Penn., 285. 

Depredations of British soldiers upon Jef¬ 
ferson’s estate, 107. 

Description of the “ White House,” 131. 

Destitution of the American army, 45. 

De Tocqueville’s views of State sovereign¬ 
ty, 356. 

Difference between the Federal and Repub¬ 
lican parties, 173. 

Differences between John Adams and the 
French Government, 79. 

Difficulties arising from a confederation, 40. 

Discomfiture of the assailants of John Quin¬ 
cy Adams, 200. 

Division in President Jackson’s cabinet, 248. 

Dorchester Heights taken possession of, 31. 

Douglas, Stephen A. His qualities, 388. 

Effect of a protective tarilT upon the South 
and North, 280. 

Elm Tree in Cambridge immortalized, 31. 

Emancipation Proclamation issued, 414. 

Encroachments of England and France, 18. 

Engagement between “ The Chesapeake ” 
and “ The Leopard,” lt)0. 

England claims the right of search, 1.36. Her 
treatment of America in her early exist¬ 
ence as a nation, 178. 

Evidence of a nation’s grief for the dt^ath of 
Lincoln, 433. 

Extracts. From “ The British Quarterly,” 164. 
From President Jefferson’s inaugural, 132. 

False Views of the French Revolution, 114. 

Fillmore, Millard. His parentage, 324. 
His early life, 325. Elected to the House 
of Assembly, New York, and then to Na¬ 
tional Congress, 327. Vice-President United 
States, 329. His course as President, 330. 

517 . 







518 


INDEX. 


Florida purchased of Spain, 180. 

Fort Brown attacked by Mexicans, 309. 
France sends help to the colonies, 45. 
Franklin, Dr. Benjamin. His facetious¬ 
ness, 62. His popularity at the French 
court, 75. 


Harrison, Benjamin, incidents in his life, 254. 

Harrison,W iLLiAM Henry. His early home, 
254. His youthful character, 255. Appointed 
Governor by John Adams, 257. His ex¬ 
treme px’obity, 259. Visits the Indian camp 
on Tippecanoe Kiver, 262. Appointed com- 
mander-in-chief of North-western army, 
265. His mirthfulness, 206. Member of 
House of Representatives, 208. His trib¬ 
ute to Gen. Jackson, 269. Sent minister 
to Colombia, S.A., 270. His temperance 
and antislavery views, 271. Elected Presi¬ 
dent, 272. His sudden death, 273. 

Holland negotiates treaties with America, 80. 


Imbecility of President Buchanan, 371. 

Incidents. In the life of John Adams, 01, 62. 
Regarding Gen. Jackson and John Quincy 
Adams, 197. In the later years of John 
Quincy Adams, 206. Of the last hours of 
President Polk, 297. In the life of Presi¬ 
dent Lincoln, 418. 

Indebtedness of the American Republic to 
John Quincy Adams, 198. 

Inexplicable complications of party, 277. 

Infamous conduct of the British Govern¬ 
ment, 162. 

Influence of the news of the treaty of 
Ghent, 165. 

Inhabitants, President Buchanan’s definition 
of the word, 364. 

Insurrection in Canada, 257. 


Jackson, Andrew. His ancestry and early 
character, 208. Commences teaching, 212. 
Practises law, 215. His marriage, 216. 
Elected to House of Representatives, 218. 
Sent to United-States Senate, 219. Exhibi¬ 
tions of passion^ 220. His treatment of his 
family, 223. Raises an army to meet the 
Indians, 225. His cruelty to a soldier, 227. 
Appointed major-general United-States ar¬ 
my, 228. His appearance and manners, 2.30. 
His defence of New Orleans, 233. Un- 
• authorized severity, 2.35. Elected President, 
36. His last years, 237. Sickness, and 
farewells to his family, 2.38. Burial-scene, 
2.39. Testimony of Chief J ustice Taney, 240. 

J EFFERSON, TilOMAS. His ancestry and birth, 
98. His diligence and acquirements, 99. 
His position in Congress, 104. Chosen 
Governor of Virginia, 106. “ Notes on Vir¬ 
ginia,” 108. Ills love for his wife, and 
agony at her death, 110. Sent ambassador 
to France, 112. His domestic character, 
116. His views of our obligation to France, 
119. Appointed Secretary of State, 121. 
Diff’erences with John Adams, 124. Elected 
President, 131. His simplicity and polite¬ 
ness, 133. Is re-elected President, 135. His 
attractive hospitality, 139. Pecuniary em¬ 
barrassments, 142. His last hours, and 
death, 144. His opinion of James Monroe, 
171. Of Andrew Jackson for President, 219. 

Jefferson, Mrs. Thomas. Her beautiful 
character, and death, 109. 

Johnson, Andrew. His parentage, and strug¬ 
gles for education, 437. His rapid rise in 
intelligence and influence, 438. His keen 
reply to Senator Hammond, 4.39. Opposes 
secession, 440. His trials in Kentucky, 445. 
Appointed Military Governor, 446. His 
elforts in the Union cause, 447. Proclama¬ 
tion, 449. Nominated Vice-President, 451. 
Address at Washington, 459. His reply to 
<4ov. Oglesby. 402. Change of sentiments. 


465. His present views regarding vital 
questions, 466. His ideas on reconstruc¬ 
tion, 470. Impeachment and acquittal, 480. 

Kansas. Its political troubles, 349. Resolu¬ 
tions of'her free-State men, 350. Struggles 
for its possession, .359. 

Kansas-Nebraska Bill. Its principles, 388. 

Lecompton Constitution framed, 390. 

Letter. Of Jb/in Adnms to his wife, 68. Mrs. 
AdamSy 65, 66, 68. Of John Quincy Adams 
on the impressment of seamen, 191. Of 
President Buchanan, 370. Of Mr. Cobb 
respecting John Quincy Adams, 196. Of Mr. 
Cooper to President Johnson, 466. Of Gen. 
Harrison to Gen. Bolivar, 270. Of Gen. 
Jackson, 247. Of Jefferson to his daughter, 
111; to his grandson, 112; to Gen. Lafay¬ 
ette, 125; to James Madison, 127; after the 
death of his daughter, 135; to Gen. Lafay¬ 
ette, 136; to his grandson, 137; to John 
Adams, 141. Of Andrew Johnson to Rev. 
A. J. Crawford, 453. Of President Polk to 
Gen. Taylor, 314. Of Daniel Webster, 248. 
Of Washington to Jefferson, 126; to Mr. 
Laurens, 42. 

Lincoln, Abraham. Great poverty of his 
ancestors, 375. Character of his parents, 
377. Scene at his mother’s funeral, 378. His 
pure morals, 380. His varied employments, 
381. Elected to State Legislature, and 
studies law, 382. His avowed opinion of 
slavery, 383. Elected to Congress, 385. 
His view of the Mexican War, 386. His 
reply to S. A. Douglas, 388. Various opin¬ 
ions of his speeches, .393. Thoroughness of 
his law-studies, .394. Scene at his nomination 
for President, 397. Speeches on his way to 
Washington, 401. Extracts from his in¬ 
augural, 406. His account of the draughting 
of the Emancipation Proclamation, 414. 
His tenderness and justice illustrated, 417. 
Reasons for occasional drollery, 421. His 
second election, 428. Extracts from his 
inaugural, 429. His calm courage, 4.30. Is 
assassinated, 431. Funeral solemnities, 434. 
His views of slavery, 435. 

Madison, James. His birth and childhood, 
149. Elected to the Continental Congress, 
150; to Virginia Legislature, 151. Jeflerson 
pays him a beautiful tribute, 153. Marries, 
156. Appointed Secretary of State, 159. 
Ability of his State-papers, 160. Elected 
President 161. Re-elected, 163. Retires 
from public life to Montpelier, 166. His 
death, 167. 

Madison, Mrs. James. Her beautiful char¬ 
acter, 156. Her influence in Washington, 
159. Her death, 168. 

Marcy, Gov., upon party removals, 249. 

Marshall’s eulogy upon President Taylor, 322. 

Massacre by savage tribes, 44; in New Or¬ 
leans, 472. 

Meeting of the First Congress, 88. 

Memorial of New-Haven gentlemen to Presi¬ 
dent Buchanan, 360. 

Mexico, hostilities inaugurated, 309. 

Missouri Compromise, 183. Repealed, 348. 
Abrogated, 387. 

Monroe Doctrine, its history, 183. 

Monroe, James. His birth and early life, 170. 
Distinguishes himself in the army, 171. 
Chosen United-States senator, 173. Minis¬ 
ter to France, 174. Governor of Virginia, 
176. Chosen Secretary of War, 179. Chosen 
President, 180. Re-elected President, 182. 
Retrospect of his life, 183. His death, 
184. 

Motives which led France to ally herself with 
the colonies, 79. 

Mt. Vernon, history of a day at, 53. 



INDEX. 


519 


% Nashvillk Aristocracy in 1788, 214. 

Novel, mode of balloting, 382. 

OsTEND Manifesto, 357. 

Palo Alto, battle won by Gen. Taylor at, 310. 

Party-Spirit in the United States, 157. 

People, new meaning of this word, 304. 

Perils of frontier life, 27. 

Pierce, Franklin. His birth and early life, 
.333. Elected to various offices, 334. His 
bereavements, 3.35. His march to join Gen. 
Scott, 3.38. Is seriously injured, 344. His 
perseverance, 346. Keturns to his profes¬ 
sion, and is chosen President, 348. Retires 
from the “White House,” .350. Ilis atti¬ 
tude during the civil war, .351. 

Polk, James K. His ancestors in the Revo¬ 
lution, 285. His early life and education, 
280. Practises law, and is elected to Con¬ 
gress, 289. Chosen Governor of Tennessee, 
290. Inaugurated President, 292. His views 
of the war with Mexico, 295. Leaves 
Washington, 297. His death, 298. 

Population of the United States at the com¬ 
mencement of the Revolutionary War, 29. 

Proclamation of Great Britain, 106. 

PuosLAVERY feeling towards Abraham Lin¬ 
coln, 370. 

Reconstruction defined, 469. 

Removal of Congress to Washington, 130. 

Re.purlican Convention of 1860,396. 

Resolution offered by Richard Henry Lee, 67. 
Drawn up by Jefferson, 103. 

Retreat of the British from Boston Harbor, 
32. 

Santa Anna. Leads the Mexicans at Buena 
Vista, 319. His estate, 342. 

Savage barbarity in Virginia, 27; reasonings 
and consequences, 17. 

Scott, Major-Gen. Winfield. Describes 
President Taylor, 323. Marches to the city 
of Mexico, 343. Urges Buchanan to send 
re-enforcements to certain United-States 
forts, .372. His remarks on the inaugura¬ 
tion of President Lincoln, 405. 

Secret Embassy of Caleb Cushing, 372. 

Sentiments of Lord Chatham, 44. 

Seward, W. H., Secretary of State. Attempt 
to assassinate him, 432. 

SiLLiMAN Memorial, its influence, 391. 

Sloat, Commodore United-States navy. His 
conduct on the Pacific coast, 308. 

South Carolina secedes, 371. 

Speech. Of Hon. L. 31. Keitt, .373. Of A. Lin¬ 
coln, at Springfield, Ill., 391. Of Stephen 
A. Douglas, at Chicago, 411. Of Andrew 
Johnson, at Nashville, 451; to the colored 
people, 455. Of Gov. Oglesby, 462. 

Spirit of “ The Richmond Examiner,” 400. 

“ Springfield Republican ” describes Presi¬ 
dent Lincoln, 388. 

Statement of Gov. Hamilton of Texas, 472. 

State-Rights principles advocated by Presi¬ 
dent Van Buren, 245. 

St. Clair, Gen., defeated on the Wabash, 255. 

Stony Point fortress captured, 45. 

Sufferings of the patriot army, 38; of our 
soldiers at 3Ionterey, 316. 

T 4 YLOR, Zachary. His birth and early home, 
299. His shrewdness and courage, 301. 


Engages in the Seminole War, 302. Sent 
to 3lexico, 306. Brevetted major-general, 
311. Crosses the Rio Grande, 313. His re¬ 
port of the battle of 3Ionterey, 317. Posts 
his force at Buena Vista, 318. His election 
to the presidency, and death, 322. 

Tecumseh. His character, 260. 

Temperance principles of Abraham Lincoln, 
398. 

Terms for reconstruction adopted by Con¬ 
gress, 476. 

Testimony of Jefferson to the character of 
3Iadison, 151, 153. 

Texas. How it came into the Union, 291. Its 
western boundary, 306. 

Thrilling scene in the House of Representa¬ 
tives, 201. 

Treachery of Tecumseh and his brother, 261. 

Treaty OF Peace. Signed at Paris, 49; with 
Indian tribes, gained by Gov. Harrison, 
208. 

Tyler, John. His parentage, 274. Sent as 
representative to Congress, 275. Opposes 
J. Q. Adams when in the Senate, 276. Be¬ 
comes President, 278. Endeavors to con¬ 
ciliate all parties, 279. Allies himself with 
the South in the civil war, and dies, 283. 

Valley Forge, Washington’s headquarters 
at, 41. 

Van Buren, 3Iartin. His parentage, 242. 
His marriage, 243. Chosen Governor of 
New York, 245. Appointed Secretary of 
State by Gen. Jackson, 246. He is sent to 
the court of St. James, 248. His perfect 
self-control, 249. Elected President, 250. 
Retires to Lindenwald, and dies, 252. 

Vandal spirit of the 3Iexicans, 340. 

Walker, rebel Secretar> of War. Hisproph 
ecy, 411. 

Want of power in Congress, 48. 

War. Its consequences, 19. Declared against 
Great Britain^ 163. What is civil, and 
what international, 468. 

3VASHINGTON, the family, 9-18. 

AVashington, George. His birth and home, 

10. His early toils, 15. Chosen surveyor 
of the State, 17. Sent to remonstrate with 
the French, 19. His cool courage, 21. 
Order of the day issued by, 24. His sagacity 
at Braddock’s defeat, 26. His marriage 
and home^ 28. Chosen commander-in- 
chief, 29. Exhibition of Christian charac¬ 
ter, 34. His true heroism, 37. Assailed 
by his countrymen, 42. Takes leave of the 
officers of the army, 49. Closing words to 
the Continental Congress, 50. Elected first 
President of the United States, 52. His 
opinion of slavery, 54. His last sickness, 
and death, 55, 56. His opinion of John 
Quincy Adams, 188. His letter to Jay, 243. 

Washington, 3Iary. Her noble character, 

11 . 

AVayne, Gen., defeats a strong Indian force, 
256. 

Webster, Daniel, his views upon slavery 
extension, 292. 

“AViiite House,” the, description of it aa 
in its early days, 159. 

Will and Testament of George Washing¬ 
ton, 54. 

WiLMOT Proviso, 294. 

AVrit of Habeas Corpus suspended, 417. 


Grant, Ulysses S. His birth and early edu¬ 
cation, 481. Enters the Alilitary Academy 
at AVest Point, 482. His service in the 
Mexican AVar, 482. Sent to a military post 
on the frontier, 483. Resigns his commis¬ 
sion, marries, and engages in farming at 


St. Louis, 483. Enters into the leather 
business at Galena, Ill., 483. Offers his 
services to Government upon the breaking- 
out of the war, and is commissioned as 
colonel of an Illinois regiment, 483. Pro¬ 
moted to the rank of brigadier-general, and 


I 





520 


INDEX. 


attacks the enemy at Belmont, 484. Cap¬ 
tures Forts Henry and Donelson, and is 
commissioned as major-general, 485, 486. 
Fights the battles of SMloh and Pittsburg 
Landing, 487, 488. Besieges Vicksburg, 
489. Receives the surrender of the rebel 
army under Pemberton, 490. Thrown from 
his horse at New Orleans, and disabled for 
several months, 491. Gains a great victory 
at Chattanooga, 49.3. His conduct in battle 
described by Col. Parker, 494. Is commis¬ 
sioned lieutenant-general, 495. His reply 
to ladies in regard to a ball, 496. His plans 
for the new campaign, 497. Marches 
against Gen. Lee, 498. After several des¬ 
perate battles, drives Lee within his in- 
trenchments at Petersburg and Richmond, 
498, 507. Captures Richmond, 511. Forces 


Q- V X h' 

Lee to surrender, 512. Nominated as can¬ 
didate of the Republican party for the 
presidency, 514. Elected President of the 
United States, and-enters upon the duties 
of his office, 515. 

Impeachment of Andrew Johnson, 480'. 
Interview between Grant and Pemberton, 
490. 

Lee, General. His surrender to Gen. Grant, 
512. 

Lookout Mountain, storming of, by Gen. 
Hooker, 492. 

Sherman, General. His great march from 
Atlanta to Savannah, 510. 

Stanton, Secretary. His removal from 
office by President Johnson, 478. 

Tenure of Office Act. Disregarded by 
President Johnson, 478. 



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